Lights, Camera, Action!
by honeyMellon
Summary: I am Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, the highest-paid actor in whole of North America. The moment I lay my eyes on him, I know I have to have him. Oh, he can scowl and glare at me all he wants, but he can't fool me. His ass is MINE.
1. Chapter 1

**I had a gloriously free Sunday afternoon, and guess what, ****_of course_**** my muse doesn't want to cooperate. So instead of an update to The Stranger, I present to you, a new GrimmIchi that popped into my head from out of nowhere.**

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The moment I lay my eyes on him, I know I have to have that sweet, firm ass of his. It would be a tragedy _not_ to. He's practically flaunting it, walking all over the set like that in a pair of form-fitting, curve-hugging dark-wash jeans that screams "_come grope me!_" in big bold letters.

Oh, I will, I will.

I peer over the top of my designer shades to watch him as he bends over to talk to one of the extras. His hair, already a vibrant, burnt-orange shade, gleams in the sunlight as they fall over his forehead. I take in his lithe, muscular frame; the sharp planes of his body clearly visible through the thin material of the standard-issue t-shirt given out to all production employees. A shudder of excitement courses through my veins at the thought of slipping my hands beneath that shirt.

He looks up suddenly, as if he can somehow sense my gaze. Maybe he does. It's not like I'm being very subtle. I stare right back at him and grin shamelessly.

A scowl overcomes his handsome features, and he tears his eyes away. I smirk. He thinks he's above me, the little prick, but the blush on his cheeks doesn't escape me. There's no way he can resist me.

After all, I am Grimmjow fucking Jaegerjaques, the highest-paid actor in whole of North America.

I can count with one finger the number of people who has escaped my charm, and that's only because I changed my mind half way. The poor bastard had been devastated. I remember having a good laugh when I saw his photo all over the tabloids the next day. I guess it's a bad idea to party topless when you're part of the British royal family.

This kid is as good as mine now, he just doesn't know it yet. I wonder what his name is and what department he's working for. He's still chatting with the extra, his arms gesturing in the air animatedly. The hem of his t-shirt rides up and I catch a glimpse of his boxers peeking out of his low-riding jeans. Navy blue waistband with a checkered pattern, not bad. I'm going to enjoy ripping that off of him.

His head snaps up again. This time, he downright glares at me. I wave to him.

"Jaegerjaques! You're up next!"

The assistant to the assistant to the Assistant Director wipes his brows as he reads the script again. I roll my eyes. I know the whole thing by heart now. The next scene is when I reveal my identity as a double agent to the female protagonist, who will, of course, fall for me and then we'll have sex on the roof while buildings explode all around us.

Right on cue, the door of the trailer next to mine swings open, and a tall, ridiculously curvy woman waltzs down the steps. Her long sea-green hair bounces off her back as she saunters up to me with a cheeky expression on her face.

Nelliel tu Odelschwanck: the only woman in the world I would _never_ hit on.

"You ready, Grimmy?" she asks loudly.

I growl and flex my fingers. "Stop calling me that!" I hiss in a hushed voice, eyes darting over to the orange-haired kid.

The boy has an eyebrow raised in a look of amusement.

Damn that woman!

"Come on, time to go, _Grimmy_." Nelliel pats my shoulder affectionately before walking off towards the set.

I bare my teeth and damn near snarled, but I'm a professional and I don't want to look all pissy over something so stupid. So I pull myself together and let a lecherous grin lift the corners of my mouth as I stroll after her.

The confession scene is easy. I have my hair styled to messy perfection and my clothes ripped in all the right places, flashing the horny female audience just enough skin to make them go wild.

Then comes the moment that everyone's waiting for.

"This could be our last moment alive," I say huskily, my lips barely an inch away from Nelliel's. The line is easily the corniest shit I've ever heard.

"Hmm..." Nelliel looks at me under a thick fan of fake eyelashes, then she leans in and kisses me.

I let my eyes slide close and part my lips for her, my fingers disappearing into her hair as I pull her closer. Her tongue is hot and wet and silky, and if I were into her at all, I would've sprouted a hard-on right then and there.

I flick my eyes up for a split second to survey the onlookers. Everyone on the site has gathered around, and every pair of eyes is glued to us. I see envy, jealousy, and lust. That last one is coming from our pervert of a director. The blonde stares at us openly, his fist clutching at his pant leg like he's itching to join us.

The scary part is, I know that he really _is_ itching to join us. He's a creep, that one. I'll never understand why anyone would get turned on by the sight of another man sucking face with his wife, but I know for a fact that Urahara Kisuke is one of them. _I_, personally, do not fancy the idea of sharing what's mine.

And that's why I'd rather stay far, far away from Nelliel. The last thing I want is being roped into a threesome with this oddball couple - or more specifically, Urahara. I don't want to find out first-hand what other kinks he has.

Just that thought alone makes me shudder, so I quickly turn my attention back to the task at hand. For the audience's benefit, I let out a rumbling groan from my throat as if I'm really enjoying this shit. Nelliel moans softly into my mouth, and I hear her breath become just a tad heavier.

And then I feel it - a heavy, burning weight on my head that makes the hair on the back of my neck prickle. Someone's watching me very, very intently.

I cup Nelliel's cheek and shift my body slightly to steal a glance.

It's that boy with the orange hair. His face is so flushed that I'm surprised that nobody has commented on it yet. If it weren't for his dark, half-lidded eyes, I would've thought that he is furious; but I recognize arousal when I see it. It's practically radiating from every pore on his body, like he's about to spring any moment and devour me whole.

Yeah, that's the spirit.

I give Nelliel's lips one last nip before pushing her down onto the ground, and then...

"Cut! Good one!"

I roll off of Nelliel immediately and pull her onto her feet. She gives me a quick peck on the cheek and runs off to Urahara. I watch her pluck the man's bucket hat from his head, then the two of them head towards her trailer hand-in-hand - but not before Urahara gives me a wink over his shoulder.

As the crew starts to disperse to prepare for the next scene, I search the set for the kid, only to realize that he's gone. Disappointed, I flag down one of the production assistants.

"Ah, you must be referring to Kurosaki Ichigo," the young man says, eyes lighting up with recognition as soon as I mention the word "orange".

That can't _possibly_ be his real name. So maybe he's a newbie, someone fresh to the scene using a stage name, probably here for a small supporting role in the movie. Interesting. I'll have to ask Urahara about him. In the meantime, I really need to take a dump, so I make my way to the restroom that's right next to the studio. It's very clean and actually smells nice, because everyone who works with me knows my pet peeve. You can't get Grimmjow Jaegerjaques on your cast otherwise. Absently contemplating how I'm going to make my first move on Kurosaki, I enter the first stall.

It's only after I've gotten the toilet seat cover nicely arranged that I realize that I'm not alone.

"Unngghhh..."

I can't help but raise my eyebrows. What the fuck, someone's actually rubbing one out _here_? In my restroom? I open my mouth to call them out, but then another long, drawn out moan shuts me up. My dick twitches involuntarily. Shit, this guy sounds like a fucking porn star. Now I'm curious and I just _have_ to see for myself who this is.

Being as quiet and careful as I can be, I close the lid to the toilet seat and climb onto it. With my six foot one height, I have no problem peering over the wall that separates my stall from the one next to mine, where the sounds are coming from. This guy must be really lost in his fantasy to not notice that he's no longer alone.

I nearly fall off the toilet when I find myself staring at an eyeful of orange.

Kurosaki's standing with his legs slightly spread in front of the toilet bowl, one of his arms extended to brace himself against the wall. His other hand is busy between his legs. I have a perfect view of his rigid, weeping length grasped tightly in his fist. I watch, completely transfixed, as he strokes himself almost frantically, his breath coming out in harsh, rapid pants interlaced between barely-stifled groans.

I can't even begin to describe how hard it is to stand there in silence. My dick awakens and strains painfully against my zipper. Biting my lip, I reach down to palm myself, careful to maintain a grip on the wall for support, all the while keeping my eyes glued on Kurosaki. His head is bowed, so I can't see his face, but I can picture his features contorted in pleasure. His moans are beginning to take on a more urgent edge, getting louder and more needy. He thrusts his hips, his movements becoming erratic as he fucks his own hand again and again.

I'm almost trembling now, yet I know that once I start to touch myself I'd give myself away. I'm a very vocal person. I can only rub circles over my erection to soothe the ache a little.

I swear this is the most difficult moment of my life.

Eyes wide and greedy, I swallow around the lump in my throat. The end is near, I can tell. He's whimpering, sounding almost like he's sobbing. I've never heard anything so erotic before. I imagine him making those sounds as I pound into him, stabbing his sensitive spot over and over until he reaches his peak screaming my name.

Ah, shit, there it is. Right as I picture myself burying my cock to the hilt inside of him, he lets out a strangled cry and thrust one last time into his fist. His seed splatters into the toilet bowl, some of it hitting the side. The stupid part of my mind scolds him for soiling my precious restroom, but the logical part explodes like I just had an actual orgasm myself.

Holy. Shit.

This is hotter than all the porn I've ever seen in my lifetime _combined_. I allow myself another ten seconds to watch him pant raggedly, then I slowly lower myself into a crouch. I can't step down from my perch yet, because then he'd notice my legs and realize that he had an audience.

So I wait. I hear the sound of toilet paper being torn, and I hear him wipe down the toilet before he finally steps out to wash his hands. And then the door creaks, and his footsteps fade away. I jump off the toilet seat cover on shaky legs and immediately pull my pants down to free my aching cock. It doesn't take long before I'm grunting my release, thanks to his Oscar-worthy performance.

As I scrub my hands clean at the sink, I can't help but grin at my own reflection in the mirror. You know what's the best part about this? It's the fact that I _know_ that I'm the one who sent him here. Hell yeah, he can scowl and glare at me all he wants, but he can't fool me.

_His ass is mine_.

* * *

**To be continued...**

**This was initially supposed to be a oneshot, but half way through, ideas just wouldn't stop flooding my head. I don't know how long this is going to be. My gut feeling is, not very long, maybe a little shorter than Shower. We'll see. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all the reviews for the first chapter! I'll reply to them soon!**

**I finally have the outline of Chapter 6 of The Stranger ready but in the meantime I can't help but write this. Don't worry, I promise I'm not abandoning The Stranger! It's just that I need to get this out of my system. For some reason, I find it easier to write in first-person POV lately. It's strange, because it used to be that I don't even like reading first-person POV, much less writing it!**

* * *

"He's an asshole, that Jaegerjaques," one of my advisors had warned me, back when I told him that I got the internship position in Urahara's latest project. "Arrogant, narcissistic, and perverted as hell to top it off. You be careful, Kurosaki, be very careful."

A senior of mine put it simply. "He'll try to get in your pants if you catch his eye," he said matter-of-factly. "And _he always wins_."

I had taken that with a grain of salt. Sure, I don't expect Jaegerjaques to be an angel. I've heard and read a lot of things about the man. I mean, who hasn't?

He's currently the most sought-after actor in the industry - any movie that he's in automatically sees at least a fifty percent increase in revenue. He's a human magnet, drawing females to him like moths to a flame. They love his rugged good looks, his well-toned body, but most of all - his piercing glacial blue eyes that somehow possess the ability to make women wet just by looking at them. Men love him for his thrilling action sequences, especially because he's famous for performing all the stunts himself.

With everything feeding his ego, _of course_ I expect him to have some kind of attitude problem. I personally don't care. I'm here for the job, not Jaegerjaques. The production assistant intern position is a coveted position. It's notoriously hard to get on a Urahara Kisuke project, and such opportunities are really, really rare.

When I caught him looking at me like a shameless sex predator earlier, I was disgusted but wasn't all that surprised. I had been warned after all. But, _shit_, why didn't anyone tell me to stay away when Jaegerjaques films a sex scene?

I'm a hot-blooded, completely normal male college student in my early twenties, so can you blame me for being a little curious? It doesn't matter that I play for the other team. Nelliel tu Odelschwanck is hot, I give her that. Add that to the fact that they're doing that scene in full view of Urahara - I'm sold. I just had to see it for myself.

I assumed it was going to be awkward. Nelliel is married to Urahara after all, _I'd_ be a little nervous making out with her, even if it's just for a movie. But, _fuck me_, not only was it not awkward, Jaegerjaques had taken it to a whole other level.

His brows had furrowed just a little, the way someone would when the first wave of pleasure courses through their veins, and he had groaned in that gravelly voice of his - god, my mind just took off on its own, and before I knew it, I was hard.

Horrifyingly, embarrassingly so.

It's not because I'm lusting after him, of course. It's just a natural physiological reaction. You know, like morning wood, like how you can't control your body's reaction when you have a wet dream at night. It has _nothing_ to do with Jaegerjaques.

After taking care of the problem, I lean back against the wall right outside of the restroom to catch my breath. I want to bury my head in the ground and stay there forever. I remember scoffing at my senior and saying that I don't even like Jaegerjaques as an actor. He's a talented performer, yes, but I'm more of a Johnny Depp person myself.

Apparently, my body doesn't know that.

I return to the set quietly, hoping that nobody would ask me where I've been. It's almost lunch time, so I hang around the front of the set to wait for the other two interns. Ishida Uryuu is working at the costume department, while Hirako Shinji is interning under the famous Ayasegawa Yumichika, one of the great legends in the makeup field. I've only talked to them once this morning, but they're the only ones close to my age here so naturally we'd flock together.

I'm still waiting with my hands stuffed in my jacket bocket when I suddenly spy the unmistakable shade of electric blue out of the corner of my eye. To my dismay, I can't control the heat wave that consumes my face immediately. I turn away quickly. No, I'm not hiding. I just...don't want to attract his attention, that's all. It's completely normal, nothing to be ashamed of. Remembering the looks he'd given me this morning, I can't help but tense up.

_Shit, _he's going to come up to me for sure. He's going to try to hit on me, and then he's going to expect me to become all starry-eyed just like all his other conquests. Hah! I'd never do that. I'll show him that not everybody worships the road he walks on. He can pull all his tricks on me, but they're not going to work and I'll -

He walks to his trailer and disappears inside without a single glance in my direction.

I don't think I've ever felt so stupid in my life. No, not even when I licked the chalk board in second grade just because Keigo dared me to.

I don't know how long I've been staring at Jaegerjaques' trailer, but I'm brought back to reality when someone gives me a smack on the back of my head.

"Oww!" I grab my head and spin around to find myself staring into the grinning face of one Hirako Shinji.

"What were you daydreaming about?" he asks, completely oblivious to the fact that he's trespassing on my personal space _and_ the fact that he's being much too friendly for someone who had known me for barely half a day.

A knowing smirk appears on Uryuu's face for a split second, but luckily for him and me both, he keeps his mouth shut.

"So, what's for lunch?" I ask hastily before Shinji senses something amiss.

Lunch turns out to be tuna sandwich and coffee for all staff members. The stars of the show remain in their trailers. One of the set assistants, a new guy called Yamada Hanatarou, makes the mistake of knocking on Nelliel's trailer door to inform her of lunch. When he returns, his eyes are wide and watery, looking utterly traumatized, but he refuses to tell us what happened. The veterans start snickering at once, and by the end of lunchtime I've manage to conclude that one does not simply interrupt Urahara and Nelliel when they're getting it on.

After everything is cleared away, we prepare for the next scene. It's a short one, where Jaegerjaques has a chat with one of his contacts before the poor bastard is shot in the forehead execution-style by a sniper. The gory scene won't be filmed till tomorrow, so this is just the scene where the two men meet secretly at an abandoned warehouse. Being the rookie set production assistant, I help the other set assistants with last-minute setup while Uryuu and Shinji scurry away to help with costume and makeup.

"Hey Kurosaki!"

I nearly jump out of my skin when the Assistant Director hollers my name from across the studio. I drop what I'm doing and jog over to him. The tall, burly man thrusts two pieces of paper in my face.

"Get this to Jaegerjaques _now_," he growls, glaring at me with his one good eye as if I'm the cause of his foul mood. "And ya make sure it happens, ya get it?"

I keep a lid on my temper and snatch the paper from him, then his words finally sinks in and I'm immediately filled with a sense of dread. It just gets better, because I quickly realize what I'm holding in my hand.

_Last-minute dialogue change._

Fuck. Somehow, I don't think Jaegerjaques is going to like this very much, but I have no choice but to suck it up and deliver the good news. Clutching the sheets of paper in my hand, I make a beeline for his trailer.

I find Shinji standing next to Jaegerjaques, his eyes practically sparkling as he watches his idol hard at work. Don't get me wrong - Shinji couldn't give two shits about Jaegerjaques. It's Ayasegawa he's worshipping. The slightly effeminate older man is applying the finishing touches to Jaegerjaques' face. The split lip and the jagged cut that slices his right eyebrow in half look so convincing that I'd swear they're real were I not seeing this with my own eyes.

I cough politely when nobody pays me any attention.

"Yes?" Ayasegawa turns to me with a perfectly manicured brow raised in a questioning arch.

Shinji continues to stare at his mentor with a dreamy look on his face, and Jaegerjaques continues to tap away on his smart phone like I don't exist. I can't believe I had to jack off because of this jerk.

I take a deep breath and stick out my chest to look more confident than I feel. "I have something to deliver to Mr. Jaegerjaques," I say cooly.

At the mention of his name, the actor finally lifts his head and looks at me. Well, my reflection in the mirror, to be more specific. "What is it?" he asks, sounding like he's bored.

Oh god. _That voice_.

I act like my palms are not sweating and hand him the modified script, extending my hand as far as it can go so that I can stay as far away from that evil man as I can. Then, I wait.

"No."

Huh? I shoot a look of confusion at Ayasegawa, who shakes his head and gives me a sympathetic smile.

"Sorry, I don't understand?" I blurt, suddenly feeling very dumb. I feel like I'm missing something, and Ayasegawa's reaction is not helping.

Jaegerjaques rolls his eyes. "I mean no, I'm not changing my fucking line," he says, lips curling in annoyance.

A shiver trails down my spine as he looks me up and down in the mirror as he speaks. His eyes linger somewhere below my navel. Much to my horror, I feel a rush of warmth blossoming across my face even as I open my mouth to snap at him. He's downright _leering_ at me, right in front of two other staff members. It may sound crazy, but it's as though I'm being undressed by him, leaving me feeling utterly naked and vulnerable.

"Tsk, tsk, Grimmjow," Ayasegawa giggles as he arranges the man's hair to a state of perfectly-controlled chaos. "Give the kid a break. He looks like he's going to pee in his pants."

Blood roars in my ears and I glare at the makeup artist with murderous intent.

The corners of Jaegerjaques' mouth quirk into a lopsided, lecherous grin. "Sure," he says.

Why are my internal alarm bells ringing?

"Come here." The man curls his finger in a come-hither fashion.

I fume for a few seconds before finally accepting that I don't want to lose my hard-earned job position over something so stupid. Pursing my lips into a thin line, I stalk over to him. Once I'm standing next to his chair, he turns to me. I blink involuntarily as he flashes his brilliantly-white teeth at me. Up close, his irises look like clear ocean water.

"I have one condition," he states, bringing a hand to his chin like he's deep in thought.

"What," I ask curtly, fuming inwardly. Once again I curse myself for having let this...this _monster_ stir my desires.

Jaegerjaques' smile widens. "If you give me a kiss, I'll do it," he says.

For at least five seconds, I just stare at him blankly. The request is so ridiculous that my brain simply refuses to process it.

"Come on, Kurosaki," he taunts, eyes dancing with confidence and mischief. "Just one kiss. What's the big deal?"

What's the big deal? _What's the big deal?_

"You're out of your mind!" I explode. I don't quite know where to put my hands - the temptation to strangle him is too great, so I end up balling them into fists and keeping them at my sides.

Ayasegawa clicks his tongue and bats his feathered eyelashes at me. "Cut your losses, boy. It's this or face Kenpachi's wrath."

The image of the Assistant Director screaming at me flashes in front of my eyes. I don't think I'd get into trouble with Urahara, but my official mentor is Kenpachi and I have no doubt that my internship will become three months of hell if I go back empty handed.

"On the mouth, Kurosaki, no cheating."

I hate Grimmjow Jaegerjaques.

Shinji gives me a sympathetic nod, which makes me feel even worse. I chew on the insides of my cheeks and clutch the hem of my t-shirt in a death grip, pretending that it's Jaegerjaques' neck and that I'm wringing the life out of that bastard.

The entire time, the man taps his foot on the floor and grins at me triumphantly.

_Fuck it_. Might as well get this over with. I grit my teeth, bend over, and clench my eyes shut tightly.

Huh.

His lips are surprisingly dry and the texture is kind of strange with all that makeup on. Maybe it's because of that, it doesn't feel like I'm kissing someone on the mouth. I feel oddly relieved, as though this somehow makes this less degrading...until he sticks his tongue out and _licks_ me. My eyes pop open in shock before I backpedal away from him so fast that I nearly crash into Ayasegawa.

"Gross!" I sputter, rubbing my mouth vigorously with the collar of my t-shirt. "You...you..._asshole!_"

Jaegerjaques cackles like this is the most amusing thing in the world. "Deal," he says between laughter. "Go tell Kenpachi that I said okay."

I don't even remember leaving the trailer. I just know that I need to get out of there before I give in to my urge to pound that man into a bloody pulp. It doesn't help that it feels like there's an inferno raging on my face, and that I can't get the feeling of his soft, wet tongue across my lips out of my head even as I make a mad dash back to the studio.

It's not till I pull up in front of the giant looming figure of Kenpachi that it registers in my mind that Jaegerjaques had called me by name.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

**I promise I'm working on The Stranger. :) The juices just aren't flowing as smoothly as I'd like them to. In the meantime, my muse for this story is running rampant in my head, so here I present you, Chapter 3 of Lights, Camera, Action! **

* * *

"You like the kid, don't you?"

I cock an eyebrow but keep my eyes glued to the screen on my shiny smart phone. A few more coins and I'd beat my high score.

Ayasegawa sighs dramatically as he fiddles with my hair again. I swear he has spent an hour touching the same spot.

"He's cute, I'll give you that," he continues. "But go easy on him, will you? This is his, what, first day?"

The skinny blonde standing on my other side nods. Another intern, I see.

"So what," I snort. Yeah, so what? I know he has the hots for me. Doesn't matter how much he tries to pretend otherwise, he wants me.

"Tsk," Ayasegawa clicks his tongue. "You're such an insufferable asshole sometimes, Jaegerjaques."

I let out a bark of laughter. Don't I know it! But isn't that the entire point? My fans won't have me any other way.

Another agonizing ten minutes later, Ayasegawa finally announces that I'm fit for the camera. Seriously, I think I spend more time getting my makeup done than doing actual _acting_ - which, to me, just seems like a waste of time. But what can I do? They keep telling me that high definition screens can be really unforgiving.

Not that it really makes any difference when it comes to _me_, you know?

Just saying.

Anyways, now that I'm ready, I strut down the steps of my trailer and make my way to the set. I smile at my own reflection as I walk past a mirror that has been set aside for the extras. My hair's a perfect mess, every strand arranged with the utmost care to look like I've just taken down ten men on my own - with bare hands, mind you.

I see the supporting actor already waiting for me, his flame-like red hair tied up in a high ponytail, making him look like a fucking pineapple. See, this is what happens when you don't have Ayasegawa as your makeup artist. The scene's simple: we're going to have a chat at an abandoned warehouse, thinking that we're well hidden, and then pineapple is going to get shot in the head mid-sentence.

"Abarai Renji, nice ta meet ya," the redhead grins at me when I pull up in front of him.

We exchange a brief, manly handshake. Now that I see him up close, I actually recognize him. A blooming newcomer, popular with young ladies who have a thing for his notorious tattoos, so I've heard.

I crouch down next to a steel beam, where I'm supposed to be hiding while I wait for Abarai to arrive for our secret meeting. Urahara's boisterous Assistant Director, Kenpachi Zaraki, hollers for final checks, the cameramen adjusts the angles of their lights and equipment, and then Kenpachi yells in his deep, gravelly voice.

"And...action!"

Everything fades away.

All I see and smell and hear is the warehouse: the musty smell of the dust-covered concrete floor beneath my feet, the muted sound of birds chippering outside the lone window high up near the ceiling, the stifling heat in the sun-baked space...

A soft crunch of gravel comes from the entrance. I peek around the beam, keeping myself hidden as I check if it's my contact. With a soft crack, a small pebble hits the ground right next to me and bounces off into the shadows.

"Jensen."

The hushed voice confirms the arrival of the only man who can help me get out of this mess.

"Goddamnit Parker, am I'm glad to see you," I whisper in relief.

I've practiced this scene countless of times; in my trailer, my shower, my head. I accept nothing but perfection from myself, and it shows in the box office results and the growing number of my fanbase. But I suppose not everybody works this way, because Abarai messes up his line seven bloody times.

_Seven!_

And he's not even the one who has a last-minute dialogue change!

My frustration mounts as we run through take after disastrous take until _finally_, I hear a weary "Cut! Check the gate!" from Urahara himself. There's a flurry of action from the camera crew before someone replies with the long-awaited "Clear gate!".

I let out a long suffering sigh and look pointedly at Abarai, who at least has the decency to turn a few shades of scarlet under my scrutiny.

"Sorry," he mumbles, sitting up and scratching the back of his neck. "I got kinda distracted."

I snort. _No shit_. "By what?" I ask, just out of curiosity.

Abarai doesn't reply, but his eyes dart quickly to the crew scattered around the front of the set. Kenpachi and Urahara have their noses buried in their clipboards and the camera people are busy moving their equipments. Then a mop of orange catches my eye.

_Oh, don't tell me_...

Before I have the chance to confirm my suspicion, Abarai is on his feet and heading towards Kurosaki; hips swaggering, back straight with confidence. I watch, seething inside, as the redhead starts a conversation with a surprised-looking Kurosaki.

_My_ Kurosaki.

Grtting my teeth, I take off after him and manage to catch the tail end of his self introduction. Kurosaki gives me a dirty look as I pull up next to them.

"Kurosaki, my trailer, _now_," I say authoritatively, not giving Abarai the chance to finish his sentence.

Kurosaki narrows his eyes. "What for?" he actually has the balls to question me.

"Do you want your job or not?" I shoot back, crossing my arms over my chest.

The kid's eyes widen immediately as if it just occurred to him that I could have a say in his employment. I smirk when Abarai looks at me in bewilderment before backing off with both hands raised. I bite back a snarl when Kurosaki gives Abarai an apologetic smile before running after me.

As soon as we enter my trailer, I shrug off my jacket and fling it carelessly over the back of my chair. Then I slowly begin to unbutton my shirt. I decide to let the kid stew a bit, keep him guessing what I'm up to. I catch his reflection in the mirror - he looks about ready to explode.

"So? Why am I here?" Kurosaki demands just as I start on my second button.

I turn to him and let a grin creep onto my face. "What's your job title?" I ask.

"Huh?"

"Your job title," I repeat. "What are you interning as?"

Kurosaki blinks. "Set production assistant," he replies, sounding confused; probably wondering why the hell I would want to know.

"What's your job description?" I ignore his questioning gaze.

"Uhh, job description?" he echoes uncertainly. "Umm, assist the Assistant Director, mostly. Provide support to the cast and crew members...umm, locking up the set..."

My grin widens. "I like that one - supporting the cast," I say.

Kurosaki's mouth opens into a comical "O" before it's pursed into a thin line. I think he has a good idea where this is leading to now.

"Well, I need your..._support_ right now." I let my voice dip an octave lower as my smile grows lecherous. I walk towards him, totally invading his personal space, and lean into him so that my mouth is right next to his ear. I can almost smell his nervousness.

"Take my clothes off," I whisper.

* * *

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," I sputter in horror as Jaegerjaques' breath tickles my earlobe.

I just knew it. I _knew_ nothing good is going to come out of this, but _this _is just far beyond my wildest dream. No, scratch that - _nightmare _would be a more accurate word.

Jaegerjaques pulls away and raises an eyebrow as though _I'm_ the one who just made a ridiculous request.

"What, don't tell me you're afraid, Kurosaki," his ice-blue eyes twinkle as he taunts me.

Fury bubbles up in my chest and threatens to spew out from my throat. "No I'm not!" I snap.

His smile widens, then he holds out his arms like a king waiting to be disrobed. Clenching my jaw, I step forward and reach for his shirt button.

_I'm just helping a co-worker with his costume, that's all, _I tell myself as my fingers tremble around that goddamn button. I swear it has wax or something on it, it keeps slipping out of my grasp, forcing me fumble over and over again. My fingers and knuckles graze the muscular chest behind it, separated from me only by a thin layer of fabric. Suddenly aware of Jaegerjaques' body heat and his delicious, masculine scent, I feel myself blush.

As though he can read my mind, Jaegerjaques chuckles.

I bite my lower lip in determination, and after two more attempts, I finally get that button out of the way, only to find out that I have three more to go. I groan inwardly and try my best of avert my eyes from the smooth, tan skin that's gradually getting exposed. Jaegerjaques keeps his chest hairless - which, I guess, is a good idea since a large patch of blue there would be quite unappealing in my humble opinion - but that means I'm faced with nothing but his bare skin, which seems to radiate an abnormally high amount of heat that makes my cheeks feel even hotter.

Finally, all his buttons are undone, and I step behind him to peel the shirt off of him. I can't help but stare at his well-toned back, the muscles flexing gracefully under his taut skin as he rolls his shoulders. My god, I don't know if I would be able to have this kind of body even if I work out twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. He's practically glowing, his skin glistening with tiny little droplets of sweat.

Then, as I watch dumbly, a few of those droplets collect between his shoulder blades and slide down along his spine, following the dip in the middle of his back until it pauses at the bottom for a split second before disappearing into his waistband.

The sight of his pants shakes me from my trance-like haze and I realize that he's waiting for me to remove the next article of clothing - which is, unfortunately, that very pair of pants. Frowning, I circle back to his front and set to work, pointedly avoiding his gaze. Even so, I _know_ he's leering at me, the fucking pervert.

I try my best _not_ to touch him, but there's just no helping it. My fingers accidentally brush against his abs - his flat, washboard abs, goddamnit - as I pop the button at the top of his pants. Then I scowl at the zipper.

"Staring at it ain't gonna unzip it any faster, honey."

I snap my head up and barely manage to suppress my urge to strangle the bastard. If it wasn't for this internship, Jaegerjaques would be _so_ dead.

Feeling pissed beyond words, I grab the zipper and yank it down with all my strength. A shudder breaks out all over my body when my fingers ghost over the unmistakable bump of a growing erection.

Shit!

I should be disgusted, but for reasons I can't even fathom myself, a tremor of excitement seizes my chest.

Double shit.

Grimacing against my traitorous body, I take hold of the waistband and tug the slacks down. It drops to the ground and pools around Jaegerjaques' feet, leaving him in nothing but a form-fitting pair of boxer briefs that leaves nothing to imagination.

I feel Jaegerjaques' piercing gaze on my face even though I keep my eyes glued to his feet.

"One more," he says teasingly. The fucker's smiling, I can hear it without even looking at him.

"No fucking way," I grit out, finally meeting his eyes, my blood boiling in my veins. "This is sexual harassment, asshole!"

Jaegerjaques winks at me. "So report me," he says.

_Oh, he's just asking for it_.

Sending him a murderous glare, I stomp to the door and burst out of his trailer. I scan the set for my mentor. There he is - I find his hulking frame within seconds, in the middle of yelling at a very unfortunate set assistant at the moment. I turn back to glower at Jaegerjaques, who has put on a navy blue silk sleeping robe. He folds his arms loosely over his chest and leans back against the door frame, then he looks at me with a challenging glint in his eyes.

I have to admit, Jaegerjaques is one good-looking bastard. He still has his makeup on - complete with a convincingly real split lip and bruises on his face, hair mussed to the heavens - but somehow he still manages to look like a model straight out of a magazine. Life is just not fair.

I give him one last look of disgust before jogging off towards Kenpachi. To be honest, I don't want to talk to the man any more than I need to, but I suppose this counts as a need. Surely Kenpachi wouldn't allow his intern to be subjected to this kind of treatment? I gulp as I go nearer. Up close, Kenpachi looks like the devil himself, the veins on his temples bulging as he rips the set assistant a new one. I recognize the poor sap - Hanatarou. Man, the kid just can't get a break.

"Kenpachi," I clear my throat to get his attention.

I catch a glimpse of Hanatarou's tear-streaked face when the two of them turn to me in unison. Kenpachi's one good eye threatens to bore a hole right through my skull.

"This better be good," he growls.

I swallow around the lump in my throat. "It's Jaegerjaques, sir," I say as calmly as I can. "He's sexually harassing me and it needs to stop."

Silence.

Hanatarou sniffles pitifully as I wait for Kenpachi to respond. The giant of a man blinks at me, the gesture almost comical - his mouth hanging open in a half snarl, a single eyebrow raised incredulously - then he throws his head back and _guffaws_. I wish I'm kidding, but I'm not. He actually rests his hand on Hanatarou's trembling shoulder and doubles over, howling in laughter like I've just made the world's funniest joke.

When the man finally straightens up again, he wipes his eye and says, still chuckling, "Deal with it, Kurosaki."

_Huh?_

"Ex-excuse me?" I blurt.

"I said _deal with it_," Kenpachi repeats slowly, staring me in the eye as he enunciates every syllable, his shark-like smile fading. "I'm not your babysitter, you're a big boy, Kurosaki."

For a long moment, I'm speechless. Utterly, helplessly speechless. Surely I've misheard. As I stare blankly at Kenpachi, still struggling to wrap my head around his cold-heartedness, the man's eyes flick up to look at something behind me. My heart sinks.

"Yo, Jaegerjaques," Kenpachi growls with a nod.

"Kenpachi," the unmistakable voice of my tormentor replies.

I whip my head around and bare my teeth at Jaegerjaques. The man flashes me a grin so bright that my eyeballs hurt. Acting like nothing is out of the ordinary, he strolls leisurely up to me and claps me on the shoulder.

"Say, can I ask you for a favor?" Jaegerjaques asks with a sickly sweet smile.

I shiver involuntarily - he's so close that he's practically purring into my ear. Call me paranoid, but I have a really, really bad feeling about this.

Kenpachi cocks his eyebrows inquiringly while I brace myself for the worst.

"Kurosaki has been _extremely_ helpful to me," Jaegerjaques continues in that low, velvety voice of his. My blood runs cold as he gives my shoulder a squeeze. "So I was wondering...if you can assign him as my personal assistant?"

I'm pretty sure my heart skidded to a halt right then and there.

"What? No!" I sputter indignantly. "Of course not!" I look to Kenpachi for _some_ kind of support, but one look at the shit-eating grin on his face immediately crushes my already-feeble hope.

"Sure!" Kenpachi says agreeably, ignoring my silent plea.

"This...this is not what I signed up for!" I protest frantically, stabbing my finger furiously in Jaegerjaques' direction just for good measure. "I'm here for a set production assistant internship! Not...not to be his errand boy!"

Kenpachi rolls his eye. "Don't be such a sniveling bitch, Kurosaki." He gives me a disdainful look. "You're _my_ assistant, and you're gonna do what I _tell_ you to do."

I can almost hear my blood draining from my face.

"So stop getting your panties in a bunch and do your job. I've got a movie to make, and I'm not going to let a whiny little snot-nosed brat screw it up," Kenpachi finishes with a vicious poke to my chest.

I will have you know that I exercised every ounce of my will to refrain myself from exploding. All the blood that has just fled from my face earlier come rushing back in a tidal wave of fury. Even the tips of my ears feel like they're on fire. I open my mouth to yell at Kenpachi, then, suddenly remembering how hard I've had to work to get this internship, I immediately deflate.

As if this is not already degrading enough, Jaegerjaques rubs it in with a cheery "Thanks Kenpachi! I knew I can always count on you!" before squeezing my shoulder again like we're best buddies. I hear the joints in my jaw creak as I grit my teeth with enough force to crush fingers - preferably Jaegerjaques' - and shoot the man a look of seething resentment.

I hate Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. I absolutely, thoroughly, hate this son of a bitch.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hope you guys missed me. :) Happy Friday!**

* * *

I must have killed a baby panda in my past life. I mean, why else would I deserve to be thrown into this living hell?

You know, the one where I'm stuck being the so-called assistant to a lunatic by the name of Grimmjow Jaegerjaques.

All that hard work, sleepless nights, and tears - okay, so I'm being a little overly dramatic here - to finally get this prestiguous internship, and what do I end up being? A fucking errand boy, that's what.

After Kenpachi ever-so-graciously handed me over to him, Jaegerjaques announced that from now on, I am to report to him first thing in the morning _every fucking day _until the end of my internship. My job description now includes aiding his costume changes - well, we've kind of established that, haven't we? - his fan club correspondence, and most importantly, waiting on him hand and foot during shootings.

And so, here I am, a soon-to-be-graduate of a prestigeous university, knocking on the door to Jaegerjaques' hotel room to announce my arrival.

What, you actually think he spends the nights in his trailer? Hell no. All the higher-ups have a hotel suite to themselves - though the director does share one with his wife - unlike poor interns like us who have to make do with the cheaper rooms downstairs.

Anyways, so I knocked, and now I wait, stomach rolling in a mixture of dread and morbid curiosity. I hear footsteps. Slow, messy shuffling that sound like they belong to a zombie. I take a step back unconsciously right as the door suddenly swings open.

When my brain finally registers the image in front of me, my jaw falls slack.

Jaegerjaques is standing at the doorway wearing nothing but a sleeping robe; the thin, silky material sticking to his body like second skin, hugging the muscular planes and angles of his figure perfectly.

I will have you know that I'm trying very hard not to look. I swear I am. But honestly that is simply impossible when the bloody thing is blatantly _open_, okay? The sash hangs uselessly from the belt loop and I'm presented with fleeting glimpses of his goods as he cocks his hip and grumbles in a scratchy voice.

"The fuck you up so early?"

I glance at my watch. "You're the one who asked me to 'report to you at eight o'clock sharp'," I mimic his haughty tone with a roll of my eyes.

He glares at me darkly, lip curling into a half-snarl. "Smart-ass," he mutters. And then just like that, he walks back into his room without another glance at me.

I stare blankly at the door that's still wide open. I turn my head left and right to check the hallway before peering hesitantly into the suite. What am I supposed to do? Waltz right in?

A loud holler of "What the fuck's taking you so long?" answers my question, so I take a tentative step into the room and pull the door close behind me.

I look enviously at the lavish furniture as I wander deeper into the suite. A pair of bright red love seats decorate the small sitting room, a flat screen TV mounted on the wall in front of them; the carpet so lush that it feels like I'm stepping on expensive fur. I hear the sound of running water coming from the doorway on the right, so I turn that way and, slowly, carefully, approach the door.

The first thing that greets me is a messy King-sized bed; its sheets crumpled and hanging limply over the side. I count about seven pillows scattered all over the mattress, some flattened, others bent out of shape.

Then, I freeze.

Standing next to the bed, eyeing me with an impish grin on his face, is Jaegerjaques in all his naked glory. Call me a pervert, but the first thing my eyes zoom in on is his package. I mean, how can I not? It's staring right at me in a half-salute, nestled in the midst of neatly trimmed curls - every strand as vividly blue as their counterpart on the man's head.

Immediately, all the blood in my body seems to rush to my face. Heat blooms on my cheeks as though someone had just lit my skin on fire. With an almost audible gasp, I peel my gaze away from it, but I know it's already too late. Jaegerjaques has already caught me staring at his jewels.

"What, never seen a man naked?" he asks tauntingly.

For a moment, I'm so floored by his lack of modesty that I didn't - couldn't - reply. The fact that he _really_ doesn't seem to care that he's completely exposed in front of me just blows my mind. I'm by no means a prude, but to let everything hang loose like that...I just can't imagine myself doing that. Ever.

"You..." I finally manage to respond, wrinkling my nose to convey my utter disgust. "Ugh, please put something on!"

Jaegerjaques takes one look at my face and throws his head back in a howl of laughter. Then, shaking his head, he pads into the adjoining bathroom; hips swaggering proudly, the muscles of his well defined buttocks rippling under taut, tanned skin with each step. My eyes triumphs my brain, and I find myself staring at his retreating form even though I know I'm just sinking deeper and deeper into Jaegerjaques' trap.

* * *

I can feel his heated gaze on my back as I walk into the bathroom to begin showering. The kid's practically drooling, but he's still trying to act tough and deny that he's completely under my control. That's okay, I'll let him pretend. We'll see how long he can keep up his act.

Even though it may seem like I had planned this, I actually hadn't. _Honest_.

I had stayed up late last night to rehearse today's scenes, and by the time I finally hit the sack, I had completely forgotten that I had asked Kurosaki to "report to me" this morning. I'd woken up blurry-eyed and disoriented, thinking that maybe it was Urahara with something super important, only to find a stunned Kurosaki standing in front of the door.

From the moment I felt him staring at the opening of my robe, I know I can't miss this chance to rub it in his face. The kid looks too damn cute when he blushes and purses those supple lips of his into a petulant pout. Oh, I'm sure he prefers to call that a manly scowl.

Half an hour later, we arrive at the studio, where Ayasegawa is already waiting for me in front of my trailer. His intern - the kid who has the short and blond version of Cleopatra's haircut - raises his eyebrows in surprise at the sight of the two of us walking together. I smirk. I guess Kurosaki hasn't told his friends about our..._arrangement_ yet.

The rest of the day goes by relatively quickly. Life is good when you have a piece of eye candy like Kurosaki as a personal assistant. He's there when I need a sip of water; when I need some tissues to blot the sweat off my brow; to answer my calls when my cell rings; and when I want to be out of the harsh sun, he's there with an umbrella. And the best part is I get to be up close and personal with Kurosaki, who can't seem to stop blushing like a sixteen-year old virgin.

Damn. I can get used to this.

* * *

By the time the week is over, I'm about two inches away from going batshit insane.

I've _never_ met anyone so fucking narcissistic and demanding in my life. The novelty of seeing Jaegerjaques naked is starting to wear off, and I just wish that he'd stop strutting his stuff in front of me without a thread on. He obviously knows that he has a killer figure, and he sure isn't modest about it.

He's doing this on purpose, no doubt. My extremely thin skin and my tendency to blush at the slightest suggestion of anything sexual is certainly not helping. It's not something that I can control, alright? I bet he's enjoying every minute of my torment, probably thinking that I'm getting flustered because I'm turned on by him.

As if!

At the moment, though, I'm blissfully Jaegerjaques-free, having lunch with my fellow interns not far away from the set.

"A lot of people would kill to be in your shoes, you know," Shinji says with a face-splitting grin, not sounding the least bit sorry for me.

"Gee, thanks for the insight, jack-ass," I retort bitterly, glaring at him.

Across from me at the lunch table, Uryuu pushes his rectangular glasses up the bridge of his nose and says, "Look on the bright side, Kurosaki. Think of it as a chance to train your people skills. You're going to need that to survive in this industry."

For a moment, I don't know whether I've just been insulted, or if Uryuu is simply giving sound advice. I swear that boy was born looking snarky, what with his narrowed eyes, thin lips, and that annoyingly arrogant voice of his. I stare at him for a few seconds and decide that I really _do_ need better people skills because I can't read him at all.

"Just suck it up, boy," another voice joins in, and I look up to see Shinji's mentor rolling his eyes at me. "For me, _personally_," Ayasegawa bats his feathered lashes as a dreamy look appears on his face, "I'd rather be Jaegerjaques' assistant than Kenpachi's _any day_. At least Jaegerjaques is nice to look at."

Well, that's technically true - Jaegerjaques _is_ sinfully hot - not that I'd ever admit it out loud as long as my heart's still beating, but his attitude really puts a dampen on his attractiveness. And that's putting it _very mildly_. Anyways, that really isn't relevant to my situation. A gorgeous asshole is _still_ an asshole.

I shove a hearty spoonful of fried rice into my mouth and chew forcefully, pretending that I'm chewing Jaegerjaques to death. My morning has been relatively bearable so far, but they're going to shoot a scene later - the one _after_ Jaegerjaques' contact gets shot and he finds himself surrounded by his former comrades. There will be a few stunt sequences to be performed by the man himself, and that means plenty of work for me.

After lunch, Shinji scrambles off to Jaegerjaques' trailer with his mentor to get the man ready for the shoot. I drag my feet and trudge slowly behind them, knowing that Jaegerjaques is just going to shout for me anyway if I don't show up. But just as I'm about half way there, a loud yell stops me.

"Ichigo! How are ya?"

I lift my head to see a high-spirited redhead jogging up to me. Abarai Renji, if I remember his name correctly. He's the guy playing the dead contact, although honestly I've never heard of him till the other day. He seems to be a friendly enough guy, at least from what I could tell before being dragged off by Jaegerjaques.

"I've been better," I say glumly before I can stop my big mouth. I kick myself immediately for being so unprofessional_. _Shit, if I'm not careful I really _will_ become the "whiny little snot-nosed brat" that Kenpachi thinks I am.

Renji's goofy grin falters a little. "What's the matter?" he asks with a quirk of a tattooed eyebrow.

"Nothing," I mutter hastily, hoping that he won't notice my reddening ears.

He frowns a little, then to my surprise, his mouth opens into a comical-looking "O" before morphing into a sympathetic smile. "It's Jaegerjaques, isn't it? He's giving ya trouble?"

I scrub my face vigorously with one palm. "Is it really that obvious?" I huff.

Renji shrugs. "The guy's pretty notorious," he says. "I'm sorry, man."

That has got to be the nicest thing I've heard all week. Now, if only Jaegerjaques is even _half_ as decent...but of course he isn't, and that reminds me that I need to get my ass to his trailer right now or risk his wrath, so I thank Renji and tell him that I have to run.

But before I can turn away, Renji stops me again. "Say, do you want to catch a cup of coffee later?" he asks.

My stomach flutters at the unexpected question. I blink dumbly as Renji looks at me, his russet eyes wide and hopeful.

An actor is asking me out? Sure, Renji's new to the scene and only has a few minor roles tucked under his belt, but still! He's young, ruggedly handsome, friendly, and obviously his ego hasn't been inflated irreparably by his status as a budding celebrity...yet. I can't think of a reason to say no.

"Sure, I'd like that," I reply finally, smiling for the first time in the past few days.

* * *

I watch them through the blinds in my trailer, blood boiling and jaw clenched so tightly that I can hear the sound of my teeth grinding against each other.

_How dare he_. A second-grade actor, a bumbling idiot if his performance the other day is anything to go by. I don't know what he's saying to Kurosaki, but I can't stand that stupid grin on his face. The way he's staring at Kurosaki...I can practically see his tail wagging like a fucking puppy.

The moment Kurosaki smiles at him, I know I have to stop them. I can't have _my_ Kurosaki being too friendly with that tattooed freak. I glare at Ayasegawa and that skinny blond-haired intern and push past them to get to the door. I take a deep, calming breath, then I yank the fucking thing open with almost enough force to rip it from its hinges.

"Kurosaki!"

The kid whips his head around, his smile immediately replaced by a dark, stormy frown. Abarai looks at me with a peeved expression which quickly turns into a fierce scowl when I flip him off with a sneer. To my chagrin, Kurosaki turns back to him and they exchange a few more words before Abarai walks off with a smile, pointedly _not_ looking in my direction.

"You're late," I growl when Kurosaki reaches the steps of my trailer.

"In case you didn't notice, I was having a conversation with a _colleague_," he counters defensively.

I snort and stroll back to my seat, to Ayasegawa's apparent relief. "Yeah, one who wants to get into your pants," I mutter.

I know I'm being a hypocrite, alright? But I'm _me_ and Abarai's just...nobody. Plus, Kurosaki is mine. I don't want anyone else sniffing around my property.

Without even looking in the mirror, I know Kurosaki is glowering at my reflection. Fine, he wants to play hard to get? I'll play along.

Two hours later, I'm sitting on a lawn chair in front of the set ready to go while Kurosaki sits next to me in another chair with a stack of towels on his lap and a water cooler by his leg. I study him out of the corner of my eye; starting from the lean, mile-long legs clad in a pair of form-fitting black denim pants and slowly drifting up to the slender torso hidden under a maroon V-neck t-shirt. He's not the buff, muscular type, but his swimmer-like physique has its own charm. In fact, I think the picture of him wrapping those legs of his around my waist is extremely appealing...

"Stop staring at me, you pervert."

I raise an eyebrow. "Who says I am?"

Ichigo rolls his pretty brown eyes. "Oh yeah, of course you're not, you were just checking out the towels," he says dryly.

I bark out a laugh. I just can't get enough of that expression on his face; those thin orange brows pinched into a frown, his soft, very kissable lips pursed in a half-pout, half-snarl.

Approaching footsteps prevents me from delivering a snappy comeback, and I look up to see the stunt coordinator strolling up to me, his bald head practically sparkling under the bright sunlight.

"Ya ready, Jaegerjaques?" the man yells, the corners of his lips lifted into a challenging grin.

Madarame Ikkaku is one of the best stunt coordinators in the field, widely known for his colorful background as a former stunt man himself. He has sustained many injuries in his time, some serious enough to put bigger, tougher-looking guys into retirement, but Madarame just bounces back every time. But eventually, age caught up with him and he had to cut back on the action and work behind the camera instead. I can see the thirst and jealousy in his eyes sometimes as he walks me through sequences, his body thrumming with energy that's just begging to be let out. Maybe that's why we clicked right away; we're a lot alike in that sense. Some people can sit back and watch somebody else do their dirty work and then claim the fame for themselves, but me...I can't stand that shit. I'm paid to act and that's what I'm going to do. If you want me, then you'll be getting nothing but Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, from the beginning till the end.

Madarame's arrival is the cue to begin the next shot - my long awaited fight scene. I've been looking forward to this for weeks; secretly practicing the moves in the privacy of my hotel suite and tweaking them a little to my own liking.

"Hell yeah I'm ready," I reply, jumping to my feet and rubbing my palms together in glee.

"That's the spirit!" The bald stunt coordinator claps me on my back and throws an arm around my shoulders.

I let Madarame steer me towards the set, assuming that Kurosaki would simply follow behind me, but the footsteps I'm expecting never came. What I hear instead is Abarai's irritatingly cheerful voice.

"Hey, so what time should I pick you up later?" I hear him ask.

Shocked, I turn around so quickly that the joints in my neck creak in protest. The sight that greets me leaves me clenching my jaw in fury. Abarai is standing _way_ too close to my precious assistant; the redhead's taller frame almost enveloping Kurosaki's, whose cheeks are turning an alarming shade of pink.

So _this_ was what they were chatting about this morning? Abarai actually has the balls to ask _my _Kurosaki out on a date? That insolent bastard!

By this point, I'm seeing red. I wrench Madarame's arm off of me and stalk back towards Kurosaki. I vaguely register a low, rumbling growl coming from the depths of my throat as I approach them, my hands balled into fists that are just _itching _to sink themselves into Abarai's gut. Kurosaki's eyes widen as he spots me coming at them from behind Abarai, and that in turn prompts the redhead to turn around. Our eyes lock, and my hackles rise immediately as Abarai's gaze hardens with a challenging glint.

* * *

"What's going on here?" Jaegerjaques growls when he finally pulls up in front of me.

Renji moves to shield me from Jaegerjaques, but that just adds insult to my already-injured pride, so I shove him aside to face the blue-haired, red-faced actor.

"I don't see how this is any of your business," I say as calmly as I can manage. Inside, my blood is becoming molten lava, bubbling with all the pent-up anger that has been building since the beginning of the week.

Jaegerjaques shoots me an icy glare. "Of course it's my business," he sneers. "You work for me and your job isn't fucking done until I say it is."

"Hey, watch your mouth," Renji cuts in, stepping in front of me once more; blatantly ignoring the warning look from me.

I grit my teeth as I look from Renji to Jaegerjaques. I understand that Renji is just trying to be nice, but his chivalrous protectiveness is making me look like the helpless princess that I'm _not_. As if that isn't bad enough, this ridiculous little spectacle is beginning to attract attention, and people are slowing down to see what's going on.

"Renji," I tug on the redhead's sleeves to get him to move aside, but instead of moving, Renji turns around and bats my hand away.

"Let me handle this, babe," he says.

_Babe?_

I can't fucking take this anymore.

"Enough!" I scream, my self control finally snapping like a piece of dry twig.

A stretch of stunned silence follows my outburst. Then, Jaegerjaques raises an eyebrow and asks mockingly, "Or what?"

I really should have done this all along. Screw the internship. Screw this so-called "opportunity of a lifetime". I curl my lips into the fiercest, most aggressive snarl I've ever made in my life, then I let my right fist fly.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Happy Friday! xD**

* * *

I seriously didn't see it coming.

One minute I'm smirking at Kurosaki, taunting him because I know he'd do anything to keep his job. Then the next minute, I'm holding my nose, the pain so explosive that white spots are dancing in front of my darkened vision.

Kurosaki fucking_ punched _me_._

I'm so shocked that, for a moment, I'm almost convinced that it's a hallucination, but the blood that's leaking out from my nostrils and dripping onto my shirt begs to differ.

There is a few seconds of complete silence before the proverbial shit hits the fan. Everybody begins to talk at once, no doubt horrified that the main actor of the movie has been injured. Madarame comes over to grab ahold of me as I stagger backwards, my body doubling over, eyes watering as I struggle to breathe through my mouth. Kurosaki is still trying to lunge at me, his limbs flailing about violently in the air, but Abarai has him around the waist so all he can do is scream a string of curses.

"What the _hell_ is going on there!" Kenpachi roars from across the studio, and then I hear his footsteps quicken and I know he's rushing towards us to see what the commotion is about.

When the man skids to a stop in front of me, his eyes widen comically like they're about to pop out of their sockets. Then he turns to Kurosaki, his features so dark and ominous that I can't but cringe even through the terrible throbbing of my nose.

"You! You're _fired!_" Kenpachi stabs Kurosaki in the chest with so much force that I'm surprised that his finger didn't poke a hole in the kid's flesh.

Kurosaki stops struggling, but he doesn't go pale or protest or beg or do anything that I expect him to. If anything, he only appears all the more determined. His caramel eyes flash dangerously as he glowers at me one more time before staring right back at Kenpachi fearlessly.

For obvious reasons, that just pisses Kenpachi off even more. "Get him outta my sight! _Right fucking now!_" the giant hollers, his gravelly voice so loud that I'm sure everybody within a five-mile radius can hear him.

And then his words registers in my head. I look at Kenpachi wildly, wanting so badly to ask him to wait but I can't speak properly with my nose completely blocked by blood that's still dripping all over the place. I know I should be angry at Kurosaki, but to be honest - crazy as it may sound - I'm too impressed by him to be angry. Not everyone has the gall to stand up to me, much less to actually fight back like he did.

Plus, I kind of asked for it, you know? It's fun playing with the kid and all, but I know how much this gig means to him. I may be an asshole, but I'm not cruel. I never intended to get him into trouble in the first place.

Then, in the midst of this craziness, comes the unmistakable click-clack of Urahara's wooden clogs.

"My, my," the director says in his signature sing-song voice, stepping into our little circle and giving all of us a quick once-over. "What do we have here?"

His slate grey eyes land on my bloodied shirt and his eyebrows immediately shoot towards his hairline. "Oh dear, not feeling so well, are we, Jaegerjaques?"

Kenpachi glares at his director, but Urahara simply waves him off with that stupid paper fan of his. "And who is this?" He steps in front of Kurosaki and leans closer to the kid as if he's studying a piece of fine art. "Ah! Kurosaki Ichigo, isn't it? The young intern who came highly recommended by Professor Ukitake! How are you today, Ichigo?"

Kurosaki frowns. "I'm not an intern here anymore," he says tersely. He shoots me another murderous scowl before continuing, "I just got fired. And no, I'm not sorry for what I did."

Kenpachi looks like he's going to explode, but Urahara silences him with another wave of his fan as everyone watches on in fascination, myself included.

Just what exactly is Urahara playing at? Shouldn't he be furious that the biggest star in his movie might be sporting a broken nose right now? I mean, I know Urahara is a bit..._eccentric _all along, but...

"Jaegerjaques," he says suddenly, whipping around to smile at me.

I blink at him, my hands still cupping my throbbing nose protectively.

Urahara's smile widens. "Do _you_ want us to fire Kurosaki?"

I blink at him again, too surprised by the unexpected question to reply immediately. Then, finally realizing what he's asking me, I shake my head slowly, mindful not to jar my injury.

I've never seen so many pairs of eyebrows raised at the same time in my life. Kurosaki gapes at me, jaw slack like an idiot, while Kenpachi's eyes dart between me and his director with a look of utter disbelief.

"It's settled then," Urahara says cheerfully. "Now, people, break's over, let's get back to work, shall we? Madarame, take a look at Jaegerjaques' nose, will you?"

With that, he turns on his heels and strolls back to his seat, leaving the rest of us standing here in stunned silence. Kenpachi takes a threatening step towards Kurosaki and growls in his face before stalking off after his director, no doubt going to demand an explanation for the man's bizarre behavior. People sneak curious and careful glances at us, but after a while the crowd disperses when they realize there is no more drama to see.

Then it's just us - Kurosaki, Abarai, Madarame, and me. Abarai keeps eyeing Kurosaki warily as if he's afraid that the kid is going to sock him in the face next. As for me, I can't tear my eyes away from Kurosaki, who's looking pointedly at his own shoes like they're the most intriguing thing in the world. Seriously, I don't understand myself sometimes, because all I can think of right now is how sexy the kid had looked when he told Urahara that he's not sorry for what he had done. That look of pure rage and confidence on his face...shit, it just makes me want to grab him and fuck him into the nearest hard surface, audience be damned.

My lecherous thoughts are interrupted, however, when Madarame pries my hands away from my face. He tips my head up and from side to side, eyes narrowed as he inspects the damage. At first glance, he looks like he's all business, but I catch his lips twitching as his eyes drifts briefly over to Kurosaki.

"Go ahead, just laugh, you fucking prick," I grind out, keeping my voice low so that only Madarame can hear me.

The bald stunt coordinator snickers under his breath. "Kid sure has some potential, maybe I should get him to join my crew," he teases before continuing in a more serious tone. "Nah, your nose is just fine, s'not broken. It's not going to look pretty for a couple of weeks but it'll heal up as long as you don't do anything stupid." He winks at me. "Wait here, let me get you some ice."

I roll my eyes and stupidly decide to wrinkle my nose to make a face at Madarame. I regret it at once as a jolt of pain immediately shoots right up into my head. Before I can stop myself, I let out a sharp hiss.

"Serves you right," Kurosaki mutters.

If I were anyone else, my manager would be on her way here along with a lawyer, but I'm, well_...me_, and I don't do whiny. "Yeah, yeah," I say with another roll of my eyes.

The kid frowns at me with his lips pursed into a thin line. He clearly has something else to say, even though he looks like he'd rather suffocate to death than spit it out.

"What?" I ask finally, unable to contain my curiosity.

Kurosaki searches my face for a few heartbeats before replying grudgingly. "Why'd you do that?"

I pretend not to know what he's asking and simply quirk a questioning brow at him. His eyes narrow dangerously. I resist the urge to widen my grin, but I can't stop the spark of fire that ignites deep in my gut. He sure has a lot of heat for someone who nearly got fired not ten minutes ago, and damn if that doesn't turn me on as if he'd just stripped naked in front of me.

"Why'd you ask them not to fire me?" he repeats.

I shrug. "What's the fun in that?" I say. "I wouldn't get to tease you anymore if you're gone."

Abarai sucks in a deep breath. Judging from the look he's sending me, I think he's convinced that I'm out of my mind to toy around with Kurosaki like that so soon. What can I say? I like playing with fire. It's not like Kurosaki can truly resist me anyway. He'll just bitch about it like he always does, but in the end he will still want me. They all do.

But the biting retort that I'm expecting doesn't come. Kurosaki just regards me coldly, his mouth curled in disdain. The seething resentment in his eyes hits me like a wall of ice. Nobody has ever looked at me like this before, not even Kurosaki himself. Anger, sure. Dislike? Eh, once in a while. But such deep, utter disgust? _Never_.

Then, before I can even fully process what that means, Kurosaki stuffs his hands into his jeans pockets and leaves without a word, never once looking back as he walks away from the studio.

I stare after him, stunned beyond words - and if I'm honest with myself, _shaken_ - and suddenly unsure what to do. I glance at Abarai, who shakes his head with a hint for pity in his eyes. My stomach flip flops uncomfortably.

Well _damn_, I think he might actually be serious.

* * *

I flex my right hand, balling it into a fist and then stretching the fingers out, feeling the slight ache that pulls on my knuckles whenever I repeat the action. It had felt _so good _wiping that smug smile off Jaegerjaques' face, but now when I think back about it, I can't help but break out in cold sweat.

What was I thinking, really, lashing out at an actor? That was so unprofessional, not to mention humiliating. Now that I'm no longer clouded by anger, I realize what a close call that was. It's not just about the internship, I could've ruined my career in this industry before it even began. But in the end, ironically, it had been Jaegerjaques who saved my ass.

I should've known that he didn't do it because he felt guilty for how he treated me. For one stupid, naïve moment, I'd actually thought he stopped Urahara from firing me because he wanted to do the right thing. I had even felt grateful.

But of course he didn't. He had done it for his own selfish pleasure, so that he can continue to torture me. Call me silly, but I actually feel disappointed. How is it possible for someone so physically perfect, so beautiful, to be so..._evil_? I don't get it. It just seems like such a tragic waste of a fine specimen.

Well, either way, it doesn't matter anymore. I ended up talking to Urahara after the whole fiasco. They'd had to postpone the shooting of that scene and film the ones with Nelliel instead. After I calmed down, I went to Urahara to apologize. Not for hitting Jaegerjaques - the bastard totally deserved it - but for disrupting Urahara's schedule. The director had been surprisingly cool about it. Said I don't have to work with Jaegerjaques anymore, even offered to mentor me personally from now on. I'll finally able to return to tasks that are actually on my job description.

I should be ecstatic, but for some reason I feel depressed. I don't understand why. I'm free of Jaegerjaques now and I should be celebrating, yet here I am, tossing and turning under the covers wondering if there is even a shred of humanity left in that cocky bastard.

I shake my head at my own stupidity. Fuck that. It's none of my business whether Jaegerjaques has a heart or not. Why should I care? He's someone else's problem now. From tomorrow onwards, I'm going steer clear of him and hopefully never have to talk to him ever again in my life.

* * *

"I think he might actually dislike me," I mumble as Ayasegawa paints a bruise over my cheek bone.

"Mmm hmm."

"Like, _really_ dislike me," I ramble on. I don't know why I'm telling Ayasegawa this, but I'm seriously at a loss here.

It's been almost one week now. My nose is still a colorful purple and green, but Urahara is smart; he had written that into the script as an injury that I got in the fight scene so that we could continue filming. My manager wasn't pleased, but she couldn't do anything since I refused to take any action against Kurosaki.

Since then, the kid hasn't talked to me. Not even a single word. Hell, he hasn't spared me even a single _glance_. He just goes about his business, does his work, hang out with the other interns, and goes back to the hotel. At first, I thought he's just throwing a tantrum. I mean, that's understandable, he's entitled to feel pissed for a while, but I'm beginning to think that he's not going to _stop_ avoiding me.

Ayasegawa swipes his brush on his palette to pick up more color, his eyes never leaving my cheek. "Honey," he says in an amused tone. "Are you serious? You're not pulling my leg?"

I frown. "What do you mean?"

Ayasegawa's teasing smirk fades. In its place is a sympathetic smile that I don't appreciate. "My god, you really don't know," he says slowly, as if he's talking to a small child. "Of course he doesn't like you. The kid _hates_ your guts, Jaegerjaques. The way you were treating him, I'm surprised he's even still here."

I feel a heavy lump settle in my stomach. So Kurosaki _is_ serious. His look of disgust the other day wasn't faked. I mean, yeah, I considered the possibility, but I had shrugged it off, deeming it too ridiculous. It's _Kurosaki. _The boy had jerked off to me. He _wants_ me.

Doesn't he?

"Damn..." I mutter under my breath.

Ayasegawa laughs. "You're more delusional than I thought, Jaegerjaques," he says.

I don't know what to say in response. I'm too shocked. It's one thing to speculate in my head, but to hear it from Ayasegawa like that..._wow_. To make it worse, he's making it sound like it's so blatantly obvious, like it's crazy that I haven't realized it. How could I? Kurosaki has always blushed like a shy virgin whenever I tease him, and I _know _for a fact that he finds my body desirable.

Doesn't that mean he _likes_ me? That he wants me?

* * *

**To be continued...**


	6. Chapter 6

**Wow, has it really been two weeks already since the last update? Where'd the time go?**

**Happy Friday! **

* * *

Throughout my adult life, I have never once thought that there could be something that's unattainable to me. From the moment I set my heart on making a name for myself as an actor, I've always had clear goals, things that I would work hard for. Goals that I'd inevitably achieved no matter how farfetched they might've seemed at first. Awards, stardom, lovers - it's not always easy, of course, but I've never failed.

Not. Even. Once.

Then, _bam_, Kurosaki comes along.

It's been _one fucking month. _That's how long we haven't spoken to each other. Urahara keeps him busy, and he seems to be enjoying his job. He's smiling a lot more, his eyes seem brighter, more energetic. Except, of course, those smiles are never directed at _me_. He's not outright hostile towards me, but on the rare occasion where he happens to walk by me, his face is always a frigid mask. Hell, I think he's friendlier to my trailer wheels than to me.

Still, I refuse to admit defeat. Ayasegawa thinks that I'm in denial. Madarame thinks it's hilarious. Abarai...I don't know what Abarai thinks, because he left the project not long after the incident. His movie character has died, after all. I don't know if he ever went out on that date with Kurosaki. The skinny blonde intern says he doesn't know either, but I'm not sure if I believe him.

The thing that bothers me is, I don't understand why I'm so hung up on Kurosaki. He's hot as sin, sure, but I've seen better-looking men in this line of work, although I haven't met any who crackles with as much fire as Kurosaki. He's the first person to ever hit me, and he really wasn't kidding when he said he didn't feel sorry for doing that.

Maybe it's like that saying, you know, how people always want what they can't have. It pisses me off to think that I might just be like everybody else. I'm Grimmjow _fucking _Jaegerjaques, I'm not supposed to fit into any mold or be just like any Tom, Dick, and Harry out there. But here I am, lusting after what I can't have like a fucking loser.

Pathetic.

I've gotten so used to having him around that I actually find myself missing his presence, his biting remarks, his indignant protests whenever I ask him to do something ridiculous. I had enjoyed riling him up just to see him all flustered and annoyed, and now it feels strange not to be able to do it anymore. It's like I have nothing to really look forward to when I wake up every day.

I've lost count of how many times I've peered out between the blinds in my trailer just to see him bustle around the sets. He's very easy to spot, his vibrant, Hawaiian sunset-like hair sticking out like a beacon. I don't know if it's just me, but he seems to have become taller, buffer, more grown-up. His hair has gotten a little longer, his skin a little more tanned. He still walks around wearing those slim-fitting "come grope me" pants and body-hugging t-shirts that shows off his lean build. If I close my eyes and think hard enough, I can almost picture him straddling my hips, gazing down at me hungrily the way he used to last time.

Shit, how the hell did it come to this? I really thought I had him in my palms. I had been so certain of it.

_Goddamnit_.

* * *

I've never felt so _free_ in my life; free from distractions, annoying, narcissistic actors, and unwanted exposure to naked bodies. Urahara is an amazing mentor. He's strict, but not in the sadistic way like Kenpachi. Urahara has a way of making people feel guilty for not performing without raising his voice. Just one brief glance from his soft grey eyes and people want to hide inside their shoes. Luckily, I haven't gotten _that look _so far, although I've seen it happen to Hanatarou more times than I can count. The poor sap, really. Maybe he should consider a career change.

I never went on that date with Renji. I'm sure he's a great guy, but the way he treated me, like I'm some helpless damsel in distress, really turned me off.

Other than that, things are going really great for me. I'm finally doing what I'm passionate about, I don't have to put up with absurd demands every day, or worry about being randomly subjected to the sight of some pervert's junk. Perfectly manicured, _very_ well endowed junk, if I may add, but still...I'm _so_ over it.

I haven't talked to Jaegerjaques since that stupid incident. I have absolutely nothing to say to him, and even if I have, I don't _want_ to talk to him. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to deter him from leering at me every chance he gets. He probably thinks he's being real subtle, but I can see his face through the window blinds of his trailer. I don't know if he's just stupid, or if he thinks that I'm fucking blind. Throughout the day, even when I don't see him there, I can _feel_ him watching me.

To be honest, it creeps the fuck out of me, but a sick, sick part of me, somewhere deep, deep, _deep_ down inside, I feel just the tiniest hint of pride. I mean, come on. Do you know how many people out there would _kill_ to be within one foot of this guy? Yet here he is, ogling at me all day like I'm the last man on the planet.

Yeah. It does all kinds of good things to my ego.

_Still_, that doesn't stop me from avoiding him like the plague. I don't even try to thank him for saving my job, in case he takes that as an invitation to jump into my pants. I don't want him to get any funny ideas.

Shinji, however, thinks this is a complete waste of a golden opportunity. He says I should've stuck by Jaegerjaques, maybe get laid by him one day. I think he's just desperate for gossip, that blonde bastard. Uryuu, on the other hand, remains neutral; neither supporting nor objecting to my decision. He just rolls his eyes whenever Shinji whines about how boring this internship is going to be now that he has lost his only source of entertainment.

So, yes, life can't get any better.

* * *

I give up.

I can't take this anymore. I can't sit around waiting for the kid to come to his senses. My limbs itch every time I see him parading around in those tight, ass-hugging pants of his. Pants that I badly want to get into. _Really_ badly.

He doesn't want to make the first move? _Fine_. I will. I'll layer on the charm and tone down the asshole inside of me, just this once. Hell, I'll even toss in a little present for him - a bottle of Henry Weinhard's cream soda. He'd mentioned before that it's his favorite drink. I'd like to see him resist _that_.

I wait until he disappears into Ayasegawa's trailer before stepping out of mine. It's the end of the day, most of the crew members have packed up and left. I'm sure he has gone in there to hang out with that skinny blond-haired intern. I jog over there, knowing that there's no way he can avoid me this time. I don't care if Ayasegawa and that other kid are there to witness this. Ayasegawa already knows everything anyway.

To my surprise, the one that greets me at the door isn't Kurosaki. It's not Ayasegawa or the blonde kid either. It's the other intern; straight black hair, pointy face, narrow eyes with a pair of funky-looking rectangular glasses. He gives me this critical look, his thin eyebrows pinched together disapprovingly.

"What do you want?" he asks tersely.

I dislike him immediately. His voice rubs me the wrong way; that tone he's using, cool and aloof like he's some kind of superior being. And I _really_ don't like that the way he's studying me. In a rare moment of self consciousness, I shift my hands to hide the bottle of cream soda behind my back.

"Get me Kurosaki," I reply gruffly.

The boy's already-small eyes narrow further into slits. "What for?"

I suppress the urge to sock him in the jaw. "That's none of your fucking business," I grind out. "Now are you going to get him or not?"

"Hmph." The kid looks me up and down, his lips curling into a half-smirk. "I would think you'd have gotten the message by now."

My eyebrows twitch as my patience begin to wear thin, but I indulge him anyway. "And what message might that be?" I ask between gritted teeth.

His smirk disappears and his eyes harden. "Kurosaki doesn't want anything to do with you," he says. "Will you _please _get that through your thick skull?"

"Why you little-" I take a menacing step towards him, fully expecting him to shrink back like any normal person would, but he only continues to regard me with that cold, detached look on his ugly mug.

My stomach gives a sickening lurch, and I feel my limbs run cold and my face flush at the same time. Shit, is this how rejection feels like?

Fuck me, I think I've just been utterly, mercilessly _rejected_, and I didn't even get to meet Kurosaki face-to-face. Inside, my pride cracks a little. My cheeks become hotter and hotter by the second under the kid's patronizing gaze.

"Please don't bother Kurosaki again," he adds while pushing his glasses up the bridge of his skinny nose. With that, he slams the door in my face.

_He fucking slammed the door in my face_. I stare at it dumbly, too stunned to react. My face is practically on fire now, and I feel something foreign creep into my chest. _Humiliation_. I've never felt so humiliated in my life. Ever.

And you know what's the kicker? For the life of me, I can't summon even an ounce of anger. I just stand there like an idiot, holding the soda bottle in one hand, blinking my eyes repeatedly in disbelief and shock, but not anger. I think my brain short-circuited because the impossible had just happened.

Then, slowly, I regain control of my body. Back stiff and legs heavy, I trudge down the trailer steps like a zombie. I know my face's still red, and the remaining few crew members stare at me curiously as I make my way back to my own trailer. I don't know if they overheard and I don't care.

Finally, as reality sinks in, I have no choice but to accept the truth. I screwed up, royally. Kurosaki is fucking _serious_. He's not playing hard to get. He actually _seriously_ hates me, and apparently everyone knows that. Ayasegawa is right, then. I really _am_ delusional.

This hits me hard. For the first time in my perfect, successful life, I actually failed at something. I actually lost something that I really wanted. I fucked up.

I stagger to my mini fridge, feeling sorry for myself, and grab a bottle of cold beer. Then, dragging my feet, still wide-eyed and reeling from my failure, I fling the trailer door open and plop my ass down on the top-most step. The cool evening breeze washes over me gently, but it does nothing to soothe that tight, foreign lump in my chest.

I don't know how long I sat there nursing that bottle of beer, but the next time I lift my head to take in my surroundings, I see the dreaded, green-haired, large-chested figure of Neliel standing a few feet away from me. She cocks her head to the side and raises an eyebrow.

"You look depressed," she points out helpfully, her hips sashaying as she approaches me.

I snort and take a swig from the bottle. Room temperature beer sucks balls, but I'm too lazy to get up to grab a new one.

"You're imagining things," I retort.

She laughs and rests one of her hands on her curvy hip. "That's rich coming from you, Jaegerjaques."

I shoot her a dark look.

"Finally admitting defeat?" she continues, blatantly ignoring the warning scowl on my face.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

She laughs again, her child-like voice cutting through the silence of the night. Wow, is it night time already? Where did the time go?

"What are you doing here anyway?" I try to change the subject.

"I left a toy in my trailer," she replies with a wink. "Kisuke really likes that one, says it makes him-"

"Woah!" I thrust my hand towards her face. "I _really_ don't need to know that." Too late; a shudder runs up my spine as my sick, twisted mind conjures up the mental image of the eccentric director lying naked on silk sheets with his legs spread invitingly.

Damn, I need to get laid.

"Seriously though," Neliel interrupts me. She peers at me through thick fans of long, perfectly curled lashes, her succulent lips arranged in a slight pout. "Are you alright?"

I gulp down another mouthful of beer and make a face. "Of course I'm alright," I reply.

"Mmm hmm."

A long stretch of silence follows.

"Look, what do you want from me?" I ask finally, exasperated by the fact that she's still here.

She shrugs. "Just thought you might want to talk about it," she says. She plays around with something in her coat pocket - that toy of hers, I bet. I shudder again. "I'm a good listener, you know," she adds.

I open my mouth to say something insulting, but then I catch the gleam of sincerity in her eyes, and I falter. My throat tightens uncomfortably. Talk? What's there to talk about? Analyze how I screwed up? Yeah, that'll help.

"Kisuke and I aren't always all roses," she says suddenly.

I look at her, startled at the unexpected revelation. They sure look sickeningly loving to _me_.

She smiles at my expression. "We've gone through a lot of ups and downs, especially in the beginning. I didn't take him seriously, thinking that he's just another sleazy director out to take advantage of inexperienced actresses," she continues with a soft chuckle. "Then I realize that there's a lot more to him than meets the eye. Sides of him that nobody sees."

She pauses and gives me a meaningful look.

"He's like onions. Onions have layers. He has layers," she adds.

I stare at her in disbelief. "Did you just quote _Shrek_?"

She giggles. "Oops!"

I roll my eyes. "And your point is...?"

"_You're_ like an onion too," she says.

"Hell no," I protest immediately. "I don't stink, and I sure as hell don't have fucking _layers, _whatever the hell that means."

Neliel lets out a long-suffering sigh. "I don't know why you do this to yourself. There's so much more to you, yet you always act like a one-dimensional asshole," she says. "You need to stop taking things for granted. Being famous doesn't give you a free pass to be a dick."

I gape at her, literally shocked speechless by her frankness.

"Not everyone is as shallow as you think, Jaegerjaques," she continues, her features softening slightly. "That boy definitely isn't."

I stare at the nearly-empty bottle in my hand, unable to reply. I don't know what to say to that, so after a few seconds of silence I take a final swig from the bottle.

"It's only through dedication that Kisuke and I persevered all these years. It's hard work," Neliel says dreamily. "It's not easy to find that special someone, you know. Maybe it's time for you to stop being such a player, hmm?"

I nearly choke on my beer. "Woah, hold on a minute, woman," I sputter, struggling to speak through a coughing fit. "Now you're just thinking too much. I'm not looking for a 'special someone' or anything, okay? The kid's is just another piece of ass that I was hoping to nail, alright?"

"Oh really now?" She quirks her eyebrows. "Well, fine then. Guess I misunderstood. And here I thought you can still be saved." Shaking her head, she straightens up and pats her bulging pocket. "Time for me to go, I've kept the poor man tied up all by himself for too long."

She winks at me again and blows me a kiss before leaving. I stare at her retreating back, trying hard not to picture Urahara's situation. It's just _wrong_, all sorts of wrong. Ugh.

Stupid, meddling woman. Now I can't get her voice out of my head. All that crap about onions and roses just pisses me off. I frown angrily, annoyed that my alone time has been disrupted by her uninvited presence. I bring the beer bottle to my lips again, only to find that it's empty. Goddamnit, even the beer gods hate me!

The jarring sound of breaking glass startles me before I realize belatedly that I had thrown the bottle to the ground in frustration. The shattered pieces, dark and ominous in the dim light, lie scattered below the steps of my trailer like a deadly booby trap. Smashed, just like my plan to get Kurosaki into my bed. Obliterated. Gone.

Fuck, this is too depressing. Why am I so upset about this anyway? When one door closes, another opens, isn't that what they always say? So what if he doesn't want my attention, it's his loss! It's not like there aren't plenty of willing bodies out there waiting for me. I mean, look at the long trail of lovers I've taken all these years, men and women alike. Every single of them would give a limb just to spend another night with me. In fact, I'm going to do just that; I have some of their numbers in my cell phone, the rare few whose names I actually bothered to remember. I fish out my cell phone from my back pocket and open up my contact list.

Too fat. Too thin. Too talkative. Too loud. Too submissive-

I groan inwardly and toss my phone to the side. I can't. All I can think of is Kurosaki's slender, intoxicating figure; the feisty gleam in his eyes, the stubborn defiance behind his scowls and snappy comebacks. Just the mental image of him blushing makes my mouth water. _I want him_. I want him in a way I've never ever wanted anyone before. I want to hear his voice again. It doesn't matter if he's only going to use it to insult me. I want to feel his fire, his discreet glances at my body when he thinks I'm not looking. I want to be the center of his attention, even if it's only his anger.

My heart sinks in dismay at the almost poetic thoughts that are running through my mind. Since when have I become so desperate?

Shit, I can't let this go on. I'm a fucking professional, an award-winning actor. This role just might get me my next Oscar, I don't have time for this shit. Time for me to tuck my libido back where it belongs and focus on my damn job.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello there! It's been a while, thanks for being so patient and supportive, and thank you so much for your well wishes! :) I wrote most of this chapter on my phone, so please excuse any errors. **

* * *

I stare at the television screen blankly, the voice of Jeremy Wade barely registering in my ears as the cable plays my favorite show, _River Monsters. _Instead of gaping at the four-feet long catfish wiggling in Mr. Wade's arms in awe, like I normally would, all I can think of is that _look_ on Jaegerjaques' face when he walked away from Ishida this afternoon.

I had watched them through the blinds, with Shinji giggling madly in my ear. I'd expected him to unleash his temper on Uryuu, and was gleefully looking forward to seeing how it'd play out between the two of them, so when Jaegerjaques just stood there looking shocked and - dare I say - _hurt_, I was completely floored.

My instinct had been to jump up and run after him, but I caught myself two seconds later, surprised that I'd thought of stopping him, that I'd actually felt _apologetic _for that brief moment. Thank goodness I hadn't acted on the stupid impulse, otherwise I'd never live it down. To make it even more embarassing, Uryuu had given me a knowing smirk, as though he was somehow privvy to my temporary lapse of sanity.

Anyway, so, that's how Jaegerjaques got stuck in my head. No matter how many times I tell myself that he deserves it, I still can't get his expression out of my mind. He had looked so genuinely shocked that I have no choice but to believe that he was taken completely by surprise. But how can that be? Surely there is a limit to how thick someone can be? Has it really not crossed his mind that not everybody's dying to let him get into their pants?

I almost feel sorry for him. _Almost_, because I have no doubt he will bounce back to his arrogant self tomorrow.

* * *

Two weeks go by, and I'm convinced that the sun has risen from the West. Pigs are flying. NASA found aliens on Mars.

Okay, it's not nearly that dramatic, but something bizarre has happened: I think Jaegerjaques has _finally _given up. I don't feel his creepy stalker-like stares anymore. He doesn't try to walk by me pretending as if it's just a coincidence like he used to. Heck, I hardly even see him nowadays.

I'm baffled by the sudden change in his behavior, to be honest. Maybe Uryuu's biting words really did get through to him, or perhaps Ayasegawa had somehow managed to knock some sense into his thick skull.

I'm ecstatic, of course, but also intrigued. If you give me lots of cookies and cream soda, _maybe_ I'll admit that I'm a little, well, disappointed, for a lack of a better word. Come on, give me a break - my ego has gotten used to this wonderful treatment, so it feels kind of strange now that it's not getting fed anymore, alright? It's not like I'm dying for attention, let alone _Jaegerjaques'_, of all people. I mean, human beings are vain creatures, whether you like it or not. People like being praised. I'm just like everybody else.

One good thing about this, at least, is that this means the last month of my internship will be completely stress-free. I don't have to worry about getting jumped when I'm alone, or feel like my every move is being scrutinized.

Ah, long-awaited peace.

To my surprise, when Jaegerjaques is not busy being a prick, he's actually pretty dedicated to his job. He seems to be wrapped up in his own little world, muttering to himself whenever he's seen outside of his trailer, but most of the time he's inside, preparing for his scenes apparently, according to Shinji.

He's a good actor, nobody can deny that. He's like a different person entirely when he throws himself into the role. Now that I'm doing _actual_ set production work, I'm out on the sets a lot more, assisting Urahara, Kenpachi, and the rest of the full time crew. Sometimes, I can't help but slow down when I walk past the set when the camera's rolling. It's pretty damn riveting to see Jaegerjaques in his domain. I guess I've never really paid attention to that side of him, not when I had to deal with his other, less pleasant persona.

Now that I do, I have to admit - rather reluctantly, I'll have you know - that he really _is_ a professional. I won't go as far as to say that I'm impressed, but if I try really hard, I think I can summon at least a tiny sliver of respect for him.

I guess that's why I didn't protest when I'm handed the task of delivering food to Jaegerjaques' trailer. It's usually Hanatarou's job, but the little guy's out sick today. Shinji and Uryuu both give me a weird look when I pick up the box without a word. I just shrug, ignoring their raised eyebrows, and head for the familiar trailer. This will be my first time talking to him since throwing that punch in his face. Maybe I'll find out that he really hasn't changed at all. After all, this seems a little too good to be true.

"Go away," comes a muffled reply when I knock on the door.

"Lunch time," I announce, rolling my eyes.

There's a moment of silence, which I take to mean that the man has decided to ignore me, before the door opens with a creak. A tousled head of blue hair greets me as Jaegerjaques blinks, looking surprised.

"Hey," he says gruffly.

I blink back at him, suddenly at a loss for words. Of all the scenarios I've imagined, _awkward_ hasn't crossed my mind; but here we are, staring dumbly at each other. He looks every bit as delectable as I remember, all hard planes and toned muscles. His eyes, wide open in astonishment, are crystal clear and startlingly blue, like a beautiful, bottomless ocean.

In the end, I decide to break the weird air around us by thrusting the Chinese take-out box in his face. "Here," I offer.

He hesitates, lips twitching like he wants to say something. I brace myself for the onslaught of sleazy comments, something along the lines of "do you want to come in and feed me", but nothing comes.

"Thanks," he says finally. He plucks the box out of my hand almost carefully, and then we look at each other again, both looking kind of lost and confused. On my part, I'm confused because he's not being the lecherous bastard that he is, and I guess he's confused because I'm not snapping at him like I usually do.

"Uhh, I guess I'll, uhh, head back," I rub the back of my neck. Seriously, the awkwardness of the situation is becoming ridiculous. I almost wish that he'd say something insulting, just to make things seem normal. But _no_, he merely nods in a freakishly civilized manner and disappears back into his trailer.

I stare at the closed door for a few seconds, struggling to process what has just happened. It's strange to see him like this - so serious, so..._boring_. It almost seems like something is missing. Where is the fire? The glint of challenge in his eyes? Where's the lewd grin that's always plastered on his face?

Where's the Jaegerjaques that I hate so much?

* * *

He seems surprised. Can't say I blame him, though, I'm pretty surprised at myself too. How long have I waited for this moment - that he'd come talk to me himself, not as a grudging retort to my harrassment? I've imagined my own reaction more than once. I'd treat him coldly for shutting me out, for fucking _rejecting_ me. If he wants to talk to me again, he'd have to work hard to get my attention, and when he tries, I'd laugh in his face and tell him that he can kiss my ass.

That was the plan, anyway. My resolve just kind of crumbled the moment I heard his voice. I haven't seen him up close for more than a month, to suddenly see him again promptly turned my brain into a blob of useless jello. His reaction didn't make it any easier. I was expecting his signature scowl, the one that makes me want to provoke him even more, but what I got was a confused-looking Kurosaki instead. I wanted to say something along the lines of "you look stupid", but I just couldn't. My throat had seized up and I could only blink dumbly at him. All I saw were his moist, kissable lips and the golden specks in his honey brown eyes. I didn't even realize that my heart is racing until after I shut the door.

I'm so fucked up.

Shaking my head, I laugh at myself and place the take-out box on my desk, next to the script that I was reading before I was interrupted. I'm going over a particular scene that's slated for next week, where Nel and I are supposed to scale some metal scaffolding at a construction site to reach the roof. To my chagrin, Nel has decided that she wants to do it herself this time and that means I need to look out for her. I don't want to know how she managed to talk Urahara into letting her get her way.

Opening the box and stabbing my chopsticks into the noodles, I wonder fleetingly if Kurosaki will be on the set when we shoot that scene before rubbing my face to distract myself. _Enough_. I have better things to do than obsessing over him. I've been doing that far too much in the past two weeks that it's bordering on unhealthy. Ayasegawa says it's because of my pride, that I can't accept defeat. He thinks I've gotten so used to getting everything I want that my head can't wrap around the concept of rejection. I had agreed with him at first, but now I'm beginning to wish that it's that simple.

It sounds absurd, and I don't want to admit it, but I think I might actually like the kid.

* * *

"I vaguely recall your saying that you never want to talk to him again."

I narrow my eyes at Uryuu, who simply stares back with a slight quirk of his lips. That guy really pisses me off sometimes, what with his snarky comments and scarily accurate observations. He's not over-the-top nosy like Shinji, but now that I know him better, I think I prefer Shinji's open-book character.

"Well, I kind of _have_ to, we work together, remember?" I retort irritably.

We're at a nearby cafe, nursing cups of bubble tea after leaving the set. Shinji and Uryuu are seated across from me; Shinji nearly blinding me with that face-splitting grin of his. I have to fight not to squirm under Uryuu's cool, almost-clinical gaze. They won't stop interrogating me about my exchange with Jaegerjaques over lunch, even after I tell them that nothing interesting happened.

"He said hi, I said hi, I give him his food, end of story," I repeat with a scowl.

Shinji shakes his head gravely. "You guys not at each other's throats is just not _normal_," he says after taking a long, obscenely loud suck on his straw. "And hell, I could feel the tension between you two all the way from the lunch table."

"Sexual tension," Uryuu elaborates with a straight face.

I choke on my drink. "What the fuck are you talking about?" I sputter amidst a coughing fit, horrified.

"I saw how disappointed you were when he just left you standing there," Shinji continues, wagging his finger at me. "You were _so_ itching for something to happen!"

"Yeah, I really wanted to be groped by a pervert!" I reply sarcastically. "_Please_. I don't know why you guys think something's going on, because there _isn't!_"

Uryuu rolls his eyes. "God, you're so stubborn," he scoffs. "So is Jaegerjaques. Dumb, too, and about as mature as a three-year-old."

Shinji giggles before clamping his hands over his mouth when I glare at him.

"You've _both_ been acting weird since the other day," Uryuu adds with a sigh. "And here I thought I did you a favor by chasing him away."

By this point, the urge to climb over the table to strangle the two of them is almost overwhelming. I bare my teeth and grind out, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure, live in denial," Uryuu huffs and exchanges a look with Shinji, who simply grins and shrugs. "Come on, Hirako." Uryuu pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and stands up.

In denial? _Me?_ I cross my arms over my chest indignantly and do my best not to cringe as I meet the look of disdain in his eyes. Chuckling softly, Shinji climbs to his feet and slides out of the booth. I want to reach across and wipe that smirk off his face, I really do. I watch them leave, my eyebrow twitching from my effort to suppress my temper. I can't believe they just accused me of harboring feelings for Jaegerjaques. That's just plain ridiculous, not to mention _insulting_.

So what if I feel just a tad disappointed that he's a little cold to me? So what if I had stared at him a few seconds too long? So what if I kind of miss his boisterous laughter and arrogant swagger?

It's not like it means I like him or anything.

* * *

Before I know it, another week has gone by. Three more weeks, then my internship will be over. All three of us have handed in our applications for a full time job at Urahara's production studio, now we'll just have to wait to see if our performance this summer have impressed him enough to hire us again when we get out of college. To be honest, I feel a little nervous about it. I hope that stupid incident with Kenpachi and Jaegerjaques didn't screw things up for me.

"Ichigo, get these forms over to the background folks, will you? I think a few of them didn't sign the waiver," one of Kenpachi's full time assistant approaches me and hands me a clipboard.

I look over the documents briefly and fish out a pen from my back pocket, then I stroll towards the group of extras who're waiting to be dressed as construction workers. As I wait for a few of them to sign the papers, a sudden collective gasp breaks out amongst the crowd.

"Oh my god, it's _him!_"

"Where?"

"Move your fat ass, you're blocking my view!"

Confused, I turn around to see what the commotion is about, only to see Jaegerjaques stepping down the steps of his trailer with Ayasegawa trailing close behind. For a moment, I can't help but join the rest of the eager onlookers, my jaw falling slack involuntarily at the sight of the man. Jaegerjaques's white shirt is unbuttoned just enough to offer a peek of his broad, muscled chest, his hair styled in its usual controlled chaos, rugged and hanging over his forehead. He walks slowly, hands stuffed in the pocket of his pants, head bowed low as he absently kicks a pebble out of his way.

Damn, he really _is_ a good-looking son of a bitch.

As though he can read my mind, Jaegerjaques turns and looks in my direction. He frowns slightly, probably annoyed by the obnoxious way his fans are gawking at him, before his eyes zoom in on mine. Heat surges to my face as our eyes lock, and I'm so surprised by my own reaction that I nearly drop the clipboard. I freeze on the spot, unable to look away or move or do _anything_ aside from staring at him like an idiot, the whole time wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I've seen the man so many times, but I've never been rendered speechless like this before, not even when he's parading his bare ass in front of me.

It's got to be Uryuu and Shinji's fault. The phrase "sexual tension" swirls in my mind like a ghostly whisper thanks to their ludicrous accusation, making my mouth dry and my stomach twist uncomfortably as I watch Jaegerjaques come closer and closer, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"The fuck you going, Jaegerjaques?"

Just like that, the spell shatters. I let out a long breath of relief as Jaegerjaques finally breaks eye contact to glare at Madarame, the stunt coordinator, then he walks away, leaving me shaken and utterly confused.

"He's _so_ _cool,_" someone comments dreamily, reminding me that I have a job to do.

After collecting all the signed documents and extracting myself from the crowd of starstruck background actors, I make my way to the small, makeshift office to hand them in. To my surprise, the office is abuzz with excited chatter when I step inside; even the normally quiet assistants are on their feet, rubbing their palms in anticipation.

"Where's the party?" I ask the girl who'd given me the task earlier as I place the completed paperwork on her desk.

"Haven't you heard?" she gasps with a giggle. "Nelliel is performing her own stunt today! For the first time!"

* * *

One hour later, I'm standing in front of the location of the shoot, an outdoor area that has been set up to mimic a construction site. The shoot has yet to begin; Urahara is talking animatedly with both Jaegerjaques and Nel while the bald stunt coordinator looks on, nodding earnestly with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Yum, look at him," a familiar voice pipes up as someone squeezes in next to me.

I glare at Shinji as he licks his lips dramatically and wiggles his eyebrows in Jaegerjaques' direction.

"Shut it," I hiss fiercely before the blonde can say anything else to embarrass me. As it is, I can already feel a blush creeping up my neck and spreading across my cheeks.

Shinji widens his eyes in mock innocence. "What?" he protests, his voice much too loud for my liking. "It's just an observation, you don't have to be so _sensitive-_"

Luckily for me, a loud "shhhhh" from one of the crew members shuts him up, and he turns to the set in a huff, lips pursed into a childish pout. I shake my head, torn between laughing and being mad at Shinji, and turn my focus to the scene as well.

Jaegerjaques has his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his corded forearms as he strides over to a corner. Nelliel positions herself a few feet away from the wall, in front of the metal scaffolding propped up against it.

A roar of "action!" from Kenpachi later, the camera rolls.

Silence falls over all of us as Nelliel takes off in a sprint towards the wall. Jaegerjaques yells "go, hurry!" and runs behind her, looking for all the world as if there really is a mob chasing them. For a moment, I tense up involuntarily, almost convinced that gunshots are going to go off any moment now.

What happens next, though, is much worse.

A loud, ominous groan cuts through the sound of their hurried footsteps. Nelliel looks up and freezes, and, as we watch in shock and horror, the tallest metal pole on the structure tips over. Then comes another groan, followed by yet another, and the wooden plank and the rest of the supporting beams begin to fall apart.

"Oh my god watch out!" somebody lets out a shrill scream.

My body reacts before I know what I'm doing. Acting on instinct alone, I duck under the tape that separates us from the set and run for Nelliel, shoving people aside as they stand rooted on the spot.

But someone is faster than me. I see a flash of white and blue before it registers in my mind who that is. I only have a split second to see him throw himself at Nelliel, knocking her off her feet and shielding her with his larger, broader frame.

Then, the world explodes around them.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Finally, an update! I feel like I've been gone forever. Don't worry, I haven't abandoned my stories, and I never will. I've just been really, really, _really_ busy, so much so that I haven't had the time to log on to ffnet properly to thank everyone personally for the lovely reviews I've gotten in the past few weeks. Please know that I really appreciate them, each and every one of them, no matter how long or short they are. *bows***

**I wrote this on various mobile devices over a several weeks and two continents, so even though I've tried my best to proof read it, some errors might still get through. If you see any, shoot me a PM so that I can correct it! :)**

* * *

I hover over Nelliel on my knees, supporting myself with one arm and covering the back of my head with the other. Debris rain down everywhere around us, surrounding us with a cloud of dust. Bits of who-knows-what bounce off my back, biting and scraping my skin through the fabric of my shirt. One big one that feels like a fist-sized rock misses my hand and lands right smack on my head. I immediately feel hot liquid trickling down the side of my face.

Not two seconds later, something hard strikes my back, knocking the air out of my lungs. It hurts like a bitch, like I just got whacked with a baseball bat by a professional hitter. I grunt in pain and land on my elbows, nearly collapsing on top of Nelliel.

Then, as abruptly as it had begun, it's over. My ears continues to ring for a few more seconds, then I'm suddenly overcome by a wave a nausea. The world seems to tilt on its axis, and I feel myself fall. A pair of wide, frightened hazel eyes greet my half-lidded ones, and I try to reach out to her.

The last thing I see before my vision goes dark, is a blob of vibrant orange in my face.

* * *

A stretch of stunned silence follows the loud crash. Urahara is the first to react, his bucket hat flying as he runs towards the two huddled figures on the ground. I snap out of it next and join him, jumping over steel beams and shattered wooden planks along the way like I'm going through an obstacle course.

Jaegerjaques is bent over Nelliel on his elbows and knees, his arms shaking as he tries to push himself up. But eventually gravity wins and he tips forward, his forehead grazing Nelliel's before he falls on his side and rolls over. I drop to my knees next to him, my heart leaping into my throat in horror at the sight of bright crimson smeared along his hairline. His eyes are open at half-mast, his features scrunched up into a grimace as he lets out a soft groan.

"Nel," he murmurs, turning to look at me. Then his eyes roll back into his head and he passes out.

Next to him, Nelliel sits up, face pale but relatively unscathed. I vaguely register Urahara yelling for someone to call nine-one-one, but my attention is fixed on the unconscious man in front of me.

My heart dislodges itself from my throat and sinks slowly to the pits of my stomach. Jaegerjaques looks like a mess, his hair and face covered in dust and smudges of blood. The red stains stands out starkly against his baby blue locks and flawless skin, making him seem almost colorless in contrast.

A few minutes later, a team of paramedics arrive, and I back away from the scene reluctantly. I don't know why, but I have this irrational urge to stay close, even if it's just to see him loaded safely into the ambulance. Even after the rescue vehicle pulls away, I continue to stare after it like an idiot, still not quite believing what had just happened. This is not right. I've seen the man all cut up in this movie more often than I can count, but this is real and it just looks all sorts of wrong.

"Who the fuck set that off? Who!" I hear Madarame holler angrily above the chattering of the crowd, silencing everyone immediately.

There's a pregnant pause, then a short, skinny figure steps up to him. I groan inwardly.

"I'm...I'm sorry!" Hanatarou stammers miserably. The kid looks absolutely stricken; I swear I've never seen anyone look so pale before. He's so, so screwed. "I didn't mean to...I s-slipped..."

I tune out the rest, suddenly feeling inexplicably restless. I wonder how bad it is. Nelliel looks fine, just disheveled and maybe a little traumatized. Jaegerjaques on the other hand...

* * *

The first thing that hits me when I wake up is the strong, revolting smell of antiseptic.

I'm in a fucking hospital. Fuck. I hate hospitals with a passion. It's a germ farm and I can just imagine those microscopic freaks jumping on me, probably seeping through my pores and being sucked into my nose right this minute. My stomach rolls immediately.

"Kisuke, he's awake!"

I wince when a high-pitched, girlish voice screeches nearby. The sound pierces my head like a bolt of lightning; if I didn't already have a headache, I sure as hell have one now.

Nelliel's heart-shaped, tear-streaked face pops into my blurry vision. I want to snap at her to ask her to shut the fuck up but then I suddenly remember what happened.

"You hurt?" I ask, surprised when my voice comes out scratchy. Now that I start to pay attention, I feel like I've been run over by a truck.

"Me? No!" Nelliel says, eyes wide and watery. "You stupid idiot, you saved me! You could've died!"

Umm, you're welcome?

I shift my weight, gradually aware of the throbbing pain that's coming from different parts of my body. My back especially; my shoulder blades feel stiff and a sharp ache ripples through my muscles when I try to sit up.

"Thank god you're alright," Nelliel sniffles. Before I can protest, she bends over and hugs me, smothering me with her giant boobs. I cough and try to wiggle out of her grasp, but my muscles scream in protest. Thankfully, somebody wrestles her away from me quickly.

I sink back into the pillows and gasp, the short struggle reducing me into a pathetic, panting mess. I feel like I've aged twenty years.

"Sorry about that, Jaegerjaques," Urahara's smooth, buttery voice pipes up. "She's just...we're just really relieved that you're, ah, alive. Thank you, very much."

I quirk an eyebrow. Is it really that serious? I don't remember much - just a rush of adrenaline and knowing that Nelliel was in danger. The rest is a blur, everything had happened way too fast. And then, something strikes me suddenly.

Kurosaki was there. I remember now, he was right next to me before I...my stomach flip flops uncomfortably.

"Is Kurosaki okay?" I blurt.

Urahara looks surprised for a moment, then the corners of his mouth twitch in a way that makes me regret my question at once. "Yes, he's safe," he says. "He's _absolutely_ beside himself with worry, though. The way he was acting, you'd think that you had _died_..."

Kurosaki is worried? For some reason, my chest swells at that and I can't help but feel a little smug. I know it's childish, but knowing that the guy I've been obsessing over actually feels concerned makes me feel less like an idiot. Heh, maybe I can even fantasize that he doesn't hate me as much as he seems to.

"Well, we should go, you need all the rest you can get," Urahara says, still wearing that creepy smile of his on his face. "I'll be sure to tell Ichigo that you're alright!"

With that, he tips his ridiculous-looking hat at me and walts out of my room, dragging Nelliel after him and leaving me bewildered, confused, and more than a little annoyed.

Does that bastard know something that I don't?

* * *

Two days later, Jaegerjaques is back on the set. The only reason he stayed, so I hear, is that his manager threatened to chain him to the bed if he refuses.

He doesn't look much worse for wear besides some scrapes on his face and arms. He walks a little funny, but I guess that's normal after getting hit right smack in the back by a wooden beam. He's really lucky, it really could've been worse. Much worse.

When I first saw him in the morning, my first instinct had been to make a beeline straight for him. I don't know why I had the urge to do that. Maybe it's because a stupid part of me need to see for myself that it really is him. But I was saved from making a complete fool of myself when practically everyone flocked to him as soon as he appeared. Even Kenpachi seemed happy, which is something you don't see everyday. I stayed away, not wanting to interrupt the joyous reunion.

And now I'm sitting outside Ayasegawa's trailer while people are still surrounding the superstar, sipping on a bottle of mineral water while Shinji sucks on a lollipop next to me. Ishida is working on his own project, sitting cross-legged on a floor mat on my other side, sewing something that looks like a pink stuffed bunny. Shooting won't resume till next week, so we're mostly just doing paperwork and chatting, pretty much collecting free money.

"God, will you _just_ go talk to him already?" Shinji complains for the fifth time. He makes an obscenely wet popping sound as he pulls the candy out of his mouth. "You're making me depressed."

I give him a mean look but refuse to take the bait. Ishida and Shinji have been pestering me non-stop the past couple of days, even going so far as to hail a taxi for me to "get my ass to the hospital right this minute". I had refused, of course. There's no point going. Jaegerjaques didn't seem too eager to see me that one time, I don't see how him being injured would change anything.

Still, it seems like my _mind_ has a mind of its own. Ever since the accident, I haven't been able to sleep well. Every time I close my eyes, I see Jaegerjaques lying on the ground. Dead. Very dead - complete with splattered brain matter and spilled guts. And even though I _know_ it's not Nelliel's fault, I've caught myself thinking that this wouldn't have happened if she hadn't wanted to do her own stupid stunts. If she weren't there, Jaegerjaques wouldn't have had to protect her. He would've had time to escape.

To be honest, I'm a little freaked out by myself, not that I'd ever admit it out loud. It's almost like I'm worried for the conceited bastard, and that notion is just so foreign and wrong to me that I can't accept it. I won't accept it. It can't be true. In what universe would it make sense to care about someone so utterly despicable, so annoying and so..._evil_?

Next to me, Shinji snorts, clearly unimpressed by the way I'm acting. Then, he goes and does the stupidest thing in the world. Before I know what's going on, I'm on my feet, my arm held captive in Shinji's bony fingers.

"Stop!" I cry out, panicking when I realize where he's taking me.

Too late, I see Jaegerjaques' head snap up in our direction. His eyes burn into mine, his irises a clear ocean blue in the sunlight. I falter, my footsteps slowing down even though Shinji's still tugging on my arm like a stubborn dog.

"Fuck you, Shinji," I mutter under my breath, wishing death upon the skinny blonde.

The crowd falls silent and parts automatically, making way for us. I feel the weight of seemingly a thousand pairs of eyes on me, and my heart starts to beat wildly as though it wants to burst out of my chest. Now that I'm here, I can't possibly run away. Not only will all these people think I'm crazy, but Jaegerjaques will probably say something to embarrass me in public. I'd never live it down.

"Hi," I say stupidly when I finally pull up in front of the man. Up close, I can see the bruises and cuts on his cheeks, along with the bandage that's protecting his head wound. Instead of marring his appearance, they only lend him a rugged air, making him look all the more like the action hero he's playing in the movie.

At my greeting, Jaegerjaques looks at me, his eyes prowling slowly up and down my body. I've never felt so naked as I do now.

"Uhh...how're you doing?" I ask, trying my best to look cool and collected even though I'm squirming inside.

"I'm fine," Jaegerjaques replies after a good long pause. His lips twitch a little before quirking into a crooked smile. "Thanks," he adds, clearly an afterthought.

God, this feels so awkward, even more so than the other day, when I gave him his lunch. I can't tell what's going on inside his head. His expression is unreadable. He's not grinning like he usually does, yet he doesn't look angry. He just looks..._constipated_, for a lack of a better word.

We must be giving off some kind of weird vibe, because I suddenly notice that the crowd has dispersed. Even Shinji has left, good riddance. On one hand, I'm relieved that nobody's here to witness my embarrassment, but on the other hand, the silence between the two of us - both looking kind of lost and clumsy - becomes all the more stifling. So I feel compelled to say something, just for talking's sake.

"So, ah, is there anything I can do to help?" I offer, feeling stupid the minute the words spill from my mouth.

What can I possibly do? I'm not his assistant - not anymore. I'm just an intern who had fought tooth and nail to get away from him. I've avoided him for weeks, not wanting to have anything to do with him. He'd be dumb to accept anything from me.

Sure enough, he gives me a weird look, like he's confused and amused at the same time. "No, I'm fine," he says with unnerving politeness.

I try not to cringe too obviously, but the surprisingly quiet rejection still stings, though I'm relieved that he doesn't say anything more biting. All throughout the exchange, our eyes remain glued to each other. Much as I want to, I can't seem to look away. His eyes are beautiful - large, slanted, exotic.

Just absolutely mesmerizing.

We probably would've spent much longer gaping dumbly at each other if not for Nelliel, who pops up suddenly behind Jaegerjaques. She wraps her arms around him and plants a very loud, very wet kiss on his cheek. I look away hastily, not wanting to intrude on what looks like a rather intimate moment between two friends. Isn't she married or something? I'm pretty sure married people aren't supposed to go around kissing other people like that. But then again, she's married to Urahara so I really shouldn't be surprised...

"My hero!" she coos before kissing him again, this time on his temple.

I choose to leave then, turning around quickly so that I don't have to watch Nelliel crush her savior with her ample bosom...again.

* * *

After yelling at Shinji for putting me through that shit, I stalk off to my room to simmer alone. The awkward exchange with Jaegerjaques left a strange taste in my mouth, and no matter what I do or think, I can't seem to get rid of it. The cold sandwich I have for dinner seems to be stuck somewhere between my throat and stomach, making me feel bloated and nauseous.

In the end, I decide to take a walk outside, so I take the elevator down to the lobby and step out into the tiny little garden area behind the lobby, hoping that the chilly night air would make me feel better.

I follow the narrow pebbled trail, not really watching where it'll lead me. Then, just as I start to feel better from the slight breeze that feels soothing against my face and neck, I'm greeted by a most surprising sight.

Jaegerjaques is sitting on a stone bench under a tree at the end of the trail, nose buried in a binder that I recognize as his copy of the movie script. He keeps a lot of his own notes there - scribblings of what he thinks can be improved, what he's going to do at a certain scene, and so on. His hair is a mess, the bandage gone. The way he's sitting stiffly suggests that his back is still bothering him. Knowing his need to reaffirm his manliness in every way possible, the idiot has probably skipped the pain killers.

I lighten my steps and try to sneak away undetected, but my plan is foiled when he lifts his head and catches me. His eyebrows disappear beneath his bangs. I groan inwardly. I can't leave now, can I? I don't want to look like I'm running away with my tail tucked between my legs. So, having no other option, I sigh and stroll slowly towards him.

He blinks at me when I arrive in front of him, as though he's still unsure who I am. For a long, tense moment, that's all we do - blinking and fidgeting, at a loss for words - until he finally clears his throat.

"What are you doing out here?" he asks, letting the binder drop onto his lap.

Telling him that I have indigestion seems kind of gross, so I simply shrug. "Can't sleep," I mumble vaguely. "What are _you_ doing out here?"

Jaegerjaques shrugs, then immediately winces. "Fuck," he mutters under his breath. He turns away from me and lets out a low groan.

Without thinking, I stride over and swoop down next to him. It's only when he flinches that I realize that I have my hands on his shoulders, holding him as one would when someone accidentally takes a stumble. I let go at once, my cheeks growing hot suddenly.

"Sorry," I blurt out, backing off quickly.

My heart rate picks up when he pins me with his eyes, the irises a dark navy in the dim light.

* * *

What the fuck's wrong with Kurosaki? He's been acting weird since the morning and it's starting to piss me off. Thanks to the tip-off from Urahara, I can kind of tell that Kurosaki is worried - worried _and_ relieved to see me back here. Yet, he's acting all cool and aloof like he doesn't care. I hate to admit it, but it actually hurts to see him like that. I want to believe Urahara so badly - that the kid actually does give a damn. It's pathetic how low I've stooped, but this is one of those things that I can't control.

And then he fucking _touches_ me, his hands firm and steady and warm around my aching body. Before I can even wrap my head around that, he's gone, recoiling away from me with a look of horror that makes me feel like I'm a monster. Come on, I know I'm an asshole and all, but am I really that bad? I've never had anybody reject me like that - over and over again, rubbing salt in my already wounded pride - much less anybody that I actually want. Someone that I genuinely like for a change.

"What the hell is your problem?" I snap angrily.

Kurosaki grimaces. "Sorry," he repeats as though that explains everything. It just makes me angrier.

"Look," I grit out, fighting down the feeling of humiliation that's bubbling in my chest. "If you hate me that much, just stay the fuck away."

The resulting look of shock on his face should be satisfying, but it's not. A myriad of different emotions fleet across his boyish features, none of which I understand.

"I don't," he says, frowning a little. He hesitates for a few heartbeats before adding, "I don't hate you."

I bark out a laugh. "Don't give me that bullshit."

Kurosak bristles visibly. He shoves his hands deeper into his jacket pockets and stares pointedly at his shoes. He doesn't say anything for a while, as though he can't think of a way to refute my accusation. Then, he mutters, "It's not hate. You're just...really..."

I stare at him questioningly until he finally looks up. "I'm really...?" I prod, curious.

His lips curl into a half-snarl, half-pout. "You're..._insufferable_!" he explodes. "I've never met anybody so...so...annoying and so fucking cocky in my life! It's like you expect the world to bow down to you and lick your fucking shoes!"

He pauses and takes a few long, deep breaths as I gape at him, stunned.

"Don't you see? Not everybody worships you like your fans do, and you can't expect me not to retaliate when you mess with me like that," he rambles on, his voice rising. "I just don't get it, what makes me so different? Why can't you treat me the way you treat Madarame? Or Ayasegawa? What have I done to deserve all that shit, huh?"

_What has he done?_ My mind flies back to the day I first set eyes on him - to the noises and the scene that I had secretly witnessed. It had all started from that fateful moment. I'm so tempted to tell him that, but I'm too proud to say anything.

I'm too proud to admit that I'd arrogantly taken that to mean that he wants me. And then when he acted like he doesn't give a shit about who I am, I had refused to believe it. I'm too proud to admit that it's the very fact that he doesn't want my attention that draws me to him. Everything that I did...it was simply because _I_ wanted _his_ attention, I realize that now. Everybody else already knew. I'm the only idiot who thought I was the one in control, when in fact I was lost in my own delusion. Every time I push the boundaries with Kurosaki, every time I taunt him, fuel that fire within him, has only made me sink deeper and deeper.

And even now, I'm still holding onto the hope that he might actually feel a little something for me, all because of the words from a man notorious for his weird antics and manipulative charm. I find myself staring at the angry young man before me and willing for it to be true. It occurs to me briefly that many have probably done the same over me, and I wince. I've never been kind to my admirers, and now it looks like fate wants me to get a taste of my own medicine.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Here I am with another update! Thanks for being so patient...I love you all!**

* * *

Once I got started, I can't seem to stop. Everything that have been bothering me - things about Jaegerjaques that I don't understand, that infuriates me - flow freely out of me in a torrential stream.

Even the part about how worried I've been about him. And how he makes me feel confused and flustered even though I try so hard not to care.

Jaegerjaques' expression turns from one of hurt to one of bewilderment, and I freeze mid-sentence, my brain finally catching up with my traitorous mouth. My cheeks - which have just returned to their normal temperature barely a minute ago - burns anew.

"Shit, Kurosaki. You're making me really confused," he mutters, his anger suddenly extinguished. Frowning with a genuinely troubled expression, he rakes his fingers through his hair and lets out a sigh.

I clam my mouth shut even though I really want to say the same. More than confused. I'm furious - at him for making me feel this way and at myself for letting him. I should be happy, glad that I don't have to put up with him anymore; yet, the taste of freedom hasn't been as sweet as it should. The nagging feeling of disappointment that has plagued me for weeks; both from the loss of Jaegerjaques' vibrant presence by my side - vulgar as may be - and from the disappearance of the fire that has always defined him.

Have Shinji and Ishida seriously been right all along?

Weren't Jaegerjaques' ridiculous demands and lecherous advances nothing but an effort to torture me, to bully me - the hapless intern that I am? This version of Jaegerjaques, currently sitting in front of me looking almost defeated, tells me that maybe.._.just maybe_ it's not. I ponder the possibility that this is all an act. He is, after all, a highly accomplished actor. But his eyes, for once, are not filled with smugness or his usual dose of over-confidence. I don't see _Grimmjow Jaegerjaques_. Instead, I see a man who's brimming with as many questions as I am.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I can't promise I won't do anything stupid," he murmurs suddenly, his voice ringing so close to me that it's practically right in my ear.

That's when I realize just how much - or how little, rather - distance there is between us. Mere inches. I've somehow drifted towards him, and him towards me. He's so near that I can see every individual strand of his eyelashes. His eyes are slowly sliding half-mast, his cheeks flushed pink. I can hear my own heartbeat in my ears, going thump, thump, thump so loudly that I'm certain he can hear it too. My eyes travel from his straight, perfectly shaped nose down to his lips; they're slightly parted as though he's breathing through his mouth. With this proximity I should be able to feel his breath on my face if he's breathing, but he's not. He's holding it in, much like I am.

I will myself to say something - _anything_ - remotely intelligent, but what comes out instead is something that sounds horrifyingly like a whimper. His eyes, dark and dilated, burn into mine like twin flames, drawing more and more heat to my face. My brain goes blissfully blank. I honestly don't know what to think anymore.

And so I don't. In a moment of pure impulse - borne from the need to _just fucking do something_ - I clench my eyes shut and close the distance between us. He gasps, the sound oddly satisfying, and I press my lips harder, firmer on his. His hesitation lasts only for a split second, and then he's pushing back with all the fire and strength that feels almost nostalgic. Familiar. _Right_.

_This_ is the Jaegerjaques I know. The one who has somehow managed to get under my skin despite everything. Somewhere in the back of my head, I hear Shinji and Ishida snickering, but they fade immediately when a wet, slithering tongue probes between my lips. I try to swallow the groan that bubbles up my throat, but it still manages to escape as a muffled moan. I feel my face grow even hotter, my tendency to blush easily rearing its head. This time, though, the indignation and stab of irritation that usually accompanies it does not appear. What I feel instead is a rush of warmth pooling somewhere southward.

We separate finally, and this time I feel puffs of air against my mouth. We're both breathing heavily, lips apart and faces close but not quite touching. I can still taste him; a mixture of tea and mint-flavored chewing gum. Strange, but not unpleasant.

And then it hits me that I've just kissed Grimmjow Jaegerjaques.

* * *

Kurosaki is panting, his eyes barely open beneath his thick lashes. His cheeks are tinted a shade of red brighter than I've ever seen on him. I don't know if he's even aware of what we've just done. What _he_ actually initiated.

For my part, I'm in shock, and not to mention confused as hell. He had been rambling on and on, about how much of a heartless jerk and arrogant bastard I am, how stupid I was to rush to Nel's rescue - something about not using my brain and not thinking about how other people would feel. How he would feel if I got hurt.

I have no idea what he's trying to say anymore. If he really thinks that I'm such a pain in the ass, why would he care?

And then, just when I thought things couldn't get any weirder, he fucking _kisses_ me, right in the mouth. I seriously thought I was hallucinating. But of course, confused or not, I'm not one to turn down a kiss - from him, especially - so I just returned it with all the passion that I've been bottling up inside of me. All that obsession, the longing, that I've been harboring for the past few months poured out unbidden, much like his rant about me. He may have started it, but I'm determined to make it last. Take what I can before he realizes his mistake. Not the most noble of me, but I've wanted this for so long.

Sure enough, when we draw apart, his eyes suddenly widen. I steel myself for the look of utmost horror that will surely grace his face. Maybe he'll even give me another one of his killer punches, probably one that will break my nose for real this time.

"Ah, shit," I hear him mumble under his breath

It's not like he hasn't rejected me before, but it still stings. How I wish I could've gone back to the day we met and _fix_ things. If I hadn't thrown my stupid weight around like some big-headed jerk, if I had just been a little less _blind_, perhaps we wouldn't be in this situation right now.

I risk another glance at him and feel my stomach clench at the look on his face. He looks absolutely stricken, his eyes blinking rapidly, brows pinched into a frown. Even so, he's turned on, I can tell that much, and it reminds me of what I had seen in the restroom. The look of desire, the heavy breathing, it brings me a pang of deja vu.

Damn, what I would give to have him look at me like that one more time.

* * *

So this is how it feels to kiss a movie star.

I lick my lips, the memory of Jaegerjaques' soft, pliant lips on mine fresh in my mind. I wonder why I haven't freaked out yet, but a part of me already knows. It's suddenly crystal clear why I've been feeling so agitated, so conflicted, why I absolutely _can't_ stand Jaegerjaques yet secretly long for his attention. I recognize all the signs now - the suffocating awkwardness between us whenever we're alone, the inexplicable moments of speechlessness - they're all pointing to one conclusion.

Despite what I've been telling myself, I am attracted to this man. Despite my stance to not become smitten just because he's rich, famous and sinfully good-looking, I am undeniably, hopelessly, hooked.

And the most mind-blowing part of it all? I'm not alone. Jaegerjaques feels the same way, perhaps even more than I do. I think I understand now, why he behaved the way he did.

Any doubt that I had, had evaporated the moment we connected. I can't explain why I'm so certain of it, but sometimes, for things like this, you just have to feel it to know it. And felt it, I did. The way his breath had hitched, the way he daren't even breathe, the way he's now sneaking glances at me...no, not even the greatest actor in the world can fake this.

It is that thought that spurs me to lean towards him and press my lips against his again. He doesn't move away, but his eyes fly open, the look of surprise on his face almost comical. This time, being completely conscious of my decision, I leave no room for him to seize control of the kiss. My heart rate, which has already been going wild, shoots right through the roof; especially when he groans softly into my mouth. His hand finds my arm and touches me tentatively, probably afraid that I'll suddenly come to my senses and bolt.

I don't blame him. I'd do the same if I were him.

When I finally pull away again, Jaegerjaques gives me a heated look. I can almost feel his arousal and want in the air, and I figure I'm not that far off myself. My cheeks have never felt so hot before. They're practically throbbing in sync with my pulse, and with every passing second, the burning ache in my stomach becomes worse. I don't think it has anything to do with indigestion.

A part of me - the logical, analytical part of my brain - screams at me to run before I make a fool of myself, but a bigger part keeps me rooted in place. I've seriously had enough with denial, now that the proverbial light bulb has turned on. I'm in no mood to deprive myself of this now that I've gotten a taste of it. I know it's crazy, and if Shinji and Ishida were here they'd either be laughing their asses off or heaving a collective, long-suffering sigh of relief. I'm leaning towards the latter.

Before I know it, we're kissing again, this time initiated by Jaegerjaques, who seems to be less confused now. He scoots closer to me and I feel his hand snake into my hair. His scent - a soothing mix of mint and tea and the hotel shower gel - surrounds me like a cloak, and I can't help but reach out to touch him. I clutch the front of his shirt and hold my fist there, feeling his rapid heartbeat and hot, firm chest beneath my hand.

I don't know who stood first, but the next time I become aware of my surroundings again, I'm stumbling over my own feet down the same narrow path that I've come from, my wrist held firmly by Jaegerjaques. He barels through the lobby, blatantly ignoring the curious stares of the few people still milling about at this late hour. I take one look at the red-faced receptionist and immediately wish I hadn't. But I can't bring myself to protest, so I let him lead me on.

We practically fall into the elevator, and without missing a beat, he shoves me against the wall and blindly hits the buttons. After several tries, he finally breaks away from my mouth with a low growl and hits the right one. The elevator starts up with a gentle jolt, and I find myself wedged between him and the mirrored wall. He has grown bolder, and he's no longer hesitating as he gropes me through my clothes. Not the teasing, playful slaps on the butt like he used to harrass me with; these are needy and punctuated with harsh pants and soft moans as he tilts my head back to plant kisses on my neck.

The journey from the elevator to his room flies by in a blur, and the next thing I know, we're inside his suite, leaning heavily against the door. Jaegerjaques slides one hand beneath my shirt and strokes my back, pulling me flush against his front. The bulge in his pants is unmistakable, and I let out a ragged moan when it presses against my own. I buck shamelessly into his crotch, hissing when he returns the gesture with just as much enthusiasm. In the back of my mind, I know we're moving too quickly, but there's no way I can stop. Right now, my other head is ruling my body, and I'm more than happy to surrender to the mindless frenzy.

Amidst groans and mumbled swearing, we eventually find our way to the couch, knocking over a chair and stubbing my toe in the process. He sinks into it, and I fall into his lap, our heads nearly colliding in our haste to keep on going. I dive down to catch his lips again, my fingers digging into his shoulders to steady myself. It's not till he lets out a grunt of pain do I realize that I'm crushing him with all my weight. Suddenly remembering that his back is probably killing him, I try to move away, but he only tightens his grip on my hips and pulls me even closer. The hands that are snaking beneath the waistband of my jeans are shaking - whether from pain or excitement I'll never know - and so damn warm that it almost feels like they're burning.

My fingers slip and slide over seemingly endless buttons, but after a struggle that feels entirely too long, we finally manage to shove aside enough constricting fabric for us to reach each other. Jaegerjaques feels hot and needy in my fist, and I can't even begin to describe the toe-curling sensation of having his hand wrapped firmly around me. The swirling heat and pulsing tension that has been pooling in my stomach surges at an alarming rate. I can almost taste it already, the sweet release that's hurling towards us, and that only makes me pick up my pace. Our rhythm, which is already unsteady to begin with, becomes even more erratic. All I hear is Jaegerjaques panting hoarsely in my ear, the minty puffs of his breath slightly ticklish against my neck. I know that I'm moaning continuously - something that I will probably regret later - but I can't help it. This feels too good, Jaegerjaques feels too good, and I simply can't hold back any longer.

I feel him throb once, twice, and then he lets out a deep, shuddering groan and thrusts roughly into my fist. His seed splatters hot and wet between us, joining the mess that I've just made. I continue to move my hand until he stops shaking, then I let my forehead fall on his shoulder, my body molding against his as I feel my muscles relax. We both wheeze like old men, struggling to regain control over our heaving chests. It takes an embarrassingly long time, but we finally do.

And then, my dear friends, comes the moment of truth.

* * *

**To be continued...**


End file.
